it'«iiiji>ii«;' 
 

Jyf^^^ 
 
 S IC ILY 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE 
 
 By II. T. TUCKERMAN 
 
 AUTHOR OF "a MONTH IX ENGLAND," ETC. 
 
 > 1 I > < J 3 > 
 
 > > > J > > > ■* 
 
 > » » J J 
 
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 Fourth Edition.] 
 
 REDFIELD 
 
 3 4 B E E K M A N STREET, NEW YORK 
 
 1856. 
 
PUBLISHER'S ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 -♦-•"♦- 
 
 The following pages are re-printed from the London 
 edition. The work originally appeared in this coun- 
 t\ try twelve years since, being one of the author's ear- 
 liest productions. The new interest which the Eevo- 
 lution of 1848 excited in regard to the condition and 
 history of Sicily, and the fact that no work on the 
 subject is at present in the market, not less than the 
 general favor with which the present volume was ori- 
 ginally received, have induced the publisher, with the 
 author's consent, to include it in the Semi-monthly 
 Library. 
 
 . Ni22Q8l^ 
 
PKEFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 -*^»-¥- 
 
 The celebrated remark of Dr. Jolinson respecting the 
 Hebrides is singularly applicable to Sicily. The an- 
 tiquities of the island are eminently worthy of obser- 
 vation ; but the inconveniences attending a visit to 
 them are such as to suggest, even in the mind of the 
 enthusiastic traveller, frequent doubts whether the 
 gratification thus afforded is not more than counter- 
 balanced by the discomfort consequently incurred. 
 The scenery, too, is peculiar, and often unsurpassed 
 for beauty and picturesque effect ; yet it is only at 
 certain periods that the weather is such as to do jus- 
 tice to its characteristic charms. The lono- and rieid 
 quarantines to which the voyager is liable, the want 
 of commodious inns, and the absence of carriage-roads 
 to some of the most interesting localities, are also es- 
 sential drawbacks to the pleasure of the tourist, espe- 
 
viii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 cially if lie be fresh from the superior facilities of the 
 continent. To one who sympathizes warmly with his 
 race, there are, in addition, many painful associations 
 constantly awakened by the existent poverty and deg- 
 radation of the Sicilians, but ill-calculated to cheer his 
 sojourn. If these considerations, however, are suffi- 
 cient to deter the unadventurous from exploring this 
 remarkable island, they afford no inconsiderable mo- 
 tive to one whom circumstances have lured within its 
 fertile precincts, to attempt to convey an idea to oth- 
 ers of what there has interested his own mind. It is 
 with such a view that the following pages were writ- 
 ten. The form in which these descriptions and 
 thoughts, suggested by a tour in Sicily, are presented, 
 was adopted for the purpose of avoiding that egotisti- 
 cal tone frgm which it is almost impossible to escape 
 in a formal journal, as well as to obviate the necessity 
 of dwelling upon those unimportant details and cir- 
 cumstances which are common to every tour in Eu- 
 rope, and therefore too familiar to be interesting. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface, v 
 
 The Pilgrims, 11 
 
 The QuARAxnxE, 19 
 
 JouRXEY TO Catania, 27 
 
 BiscARi, 38 
 
 VixcENzo Belltxi, . . 45 
 
 A "Walk in Catania, 54 
 
 Syracuse, 62 
 
 72 
 
 JouENET TO Palermo, 
 
 The Capital, S2 
 
 The Novitiate, 9-i 
 
 VlTTORIO, 105 
 
 Discussion, 121 
 
 An Episode, 130 
 
 The Past and Present, 139 
 
 Segesta and Selinuntrtm, 149 
 
 Sciacca, 162 
 
 Ajhiigentum, 169 
 
 The Reunion, 1T8 
 
 1* 
 
€^t 3|c^ilgrinis. 
 
 Yet to the relics of thy splendor past 
 
 ft 
 
 Shall pilgrims pensive, but unweariod, throng. 
 
 CiiiLDK Harold. 
 
 rpiIERE is, perhaps, no approach to the Old World more 
 -*- impressive to the transatlantic voyager than the Straits 
 of Gribraltar. The remarkable promontory which rises ab- 
 ruptly before him is calculated to interest his mind, "wearied 
 with the monotony of sea-life, not less as an object of great 
 natural curiosity than from the historical circumstances with 
 which it is associated. Anciently deemed the boundary of 
 the world, it was fabled, that at this point Europe and Africa 
 were united, until riven asunder by Hercules. Forming the 
 south-western extremity of Andalusia, and long occupied hs a 
 Moorish fortress, it awakens the many romantic impressions 
 which embalm the history of Spain ; constituting, as it were, 
 the gate of the Mediterranean, the comer from the New 
 World cannot pass its lofty and venerable form without feel- 
 ing that he has left the ocean whose waters lave his native 
 shore, and entered a sea hallowed by the annals of antiquity, 
 and renowned for scenes of southern luxm-iance and beauty. 
 It was on a fine autumn night, that an American ship, 
 propelled by a regular but gentle breeze, glided through this 
 
12 * SICILY. 
 
 celebrated cliannel. The newly-risen moon seemed to hang 
 just above the horizon, with that magnified and brilliant as- 
 pect which the clearness of the atmosphere in these climates 
 occasions. Her soothing light illuminated the Spanish coast, 
 glittered on the low crests of the waves, and fell at intervals ■ 
 upon the prominent points of the majestic rock. So quiet 
 was the night, that the ripple of the water, as if parted before 
 the prow of the vessel, sounded hoarsely, and the occasional 
 orders of the captain, although uttered in an ordinary tone, 
 came with a startling distinctness to the ear. Upon the 
 quarter-deck stood two spectators of the scene, apparently ab- 
 sorbed in regarding its novel features, or yielding to the 
 thoughts it had suggested. The elder was a man somewhat 
 beyond the prime of life, with one of those countenances 
 equally indicative of shrewdness and benevolence, so fre- 
 quently encountered in America, and, without boasting any 
 very striking lineament, convey the idea of intelligence, but 
 not necessarily of genius, and good feeling without ardor. 
 Beside him, her arm within his, and her eyes turned in the 
 same direction, stood a girl of graceful figure and medium 
 height. Her face was not strictly beautiful, if such a term 
 is only applicable to great regularity of profile ; but to those, 
 who, abjuring this conventional ordeal of female loveliness, re- 
 gard beauty as chiefly dependent on expression, her counte- 
 nance alone would excite immediate interest. She was one 
 of those beings who vindicate the attractiveness of her sex 
 beyond the most perfect models of beauty ; whose eye, smile, 
 and manner are so instantly and perfectly inspired by the 
 spirit within them, that criticism is disarmed, standards of 
 the beautiful annihilated, and we are only sensible of being 
 interested, without precisely knowing how or why. Perhaps 
 the secret lies in the very depths of character. Ingenuous- 
 jaess and enthusiasm were the active elements of her nature, 
 
THE PILGRIMS. 13 
 
 and through their influence it was that a spirit of beauty lived 
 in her glance, voice, and manner, more winning than the finest 
 outline or the richest tint. It was the beauty of expression, 
 combined with the graces of youth and rare natural gifts — 
 of candid, free, and earnest expression, and, therefore, not to 
 be described any more than any other charm, which, like 
 music, addresses at once both soul and sense. 
 
 The father of Isabel Otley began life with a sensitiveness 
 of temperament and depth of feeling which ill fitted him for 
 the constant contact of worldly influences which scenes of 
 trafiic unavoidably engender. Yet at the period when it be- 
 came necessary for him to fix upon an occupation, the only 
 interest his friends were able to exert in his behalf lay in the 
 channels of trade, and soon after arriving at manhood, he 
 found himself fairly embarked in mercantile pursuits, in the 
 commercial emporium of the New World. His attention and 
 probity won him universal respect and confidence, but the 
 effect of uncongenial occupation was to give to his manner a 
 reserve utterly foreign to his nature, which unhappily pre- 
 vented his associates from discerning many of the most esti- 
 mable qualities of his character. A twelve month's residence 
 in the south of Europe during his youth had, in no small 
 degree, confirmed his natural aversion to the path of life in 
 which circumstances had placed him ; but soon after he had 
 entered upon it, too far to retreat with convenience, a happier 
 agency mingled with and neutralized the unpromising hues 
 of his destiny. In the course of business it became necessary 
 for him to visit Virginia. While there, making one of those 
 brief but pleasant sojourns at the house of a wealthy planter 
 which the frank hospitality of the south renders so delightful 
 to the stranger, he was attacked by a fever. A protracted 
 convalescence ensued, during which the amplest opportunity 
 was afforded him of realizing the sympathy of taste and feel- 
 
14 SieiLY. 
 
 ing existing between Lis host's only daughter and himself. 
 Who can wonder that his heart sprang to meet the boon of 
 love with all its long-repressed energy ? Frederick Otley left 
 the mansion of his friend in a mood altogether new and de- 
 lightful. An affection had been born in his bosom which 
 gave new interest to existence and constant impulse to action. 
 In a few months life had assumed a far hai^pier aspect ; for 
 there were hours in every passing day, and whole weeks in 
 every summer, when he was at liberty to enjoy nature, books, 
 and society, with a being whose sympathies were all his own. 
 Laboring with renewed assiduity, he was enabled, in the 
 course of a few years, to effect the object for which he had 
 long toiled, and retire with his wife and daughter from the 
 cares of business, and the bustle of the metropolis, to her 
 paternal home, made solitary long before by the death of its 
 venerable proprietor. In this beautiful retreat were passed 
 the three happiest years of his life — too tranquil and blessed, 
 it would seem, to continue, for its peaceful and happy tenor 
 was suddenly and awfully interrupted by the death of her 
 who was at once its hope and inspiration. For a short time 
 the broken spirit of the mourner appeared to derive consola- 
 tion from the scenes once familiar with her presence, but in 
 the end they seemed to agonize rather than soothe. The old 
 elms about the church-yard, as they waved in the twilight, no 
 longer whispered to his saddened fancy that her spirit was 
 near and conscious of his devoted grief, but moaned a melan- 
 choly echo to his own despairing thoughts. The favorite 
 walk, instead of reminding him that she had been, awakened 
 only the gloomy conviction that she was not. It was then 
 that he determined to follow the oft-repeated advice of his 
 kindred, and go abroad. Leaving his daughter in the care 
 of her aunt, he departed on his lonely travels, not to forget 
 his bereavement in the pursuit of pleasure, or veil it in the 
 
THE PILGRIMS. 15 
 
 excitement of novelty, but to interest, if possible, bis mind, 
 now torpid from inaction and sbadowed by woe. The letters 
 of Otley, dated from different parts of the continent, consti- 
 tuted, for several years, one of the chief pleasures of the re- 
 tired family. Through them his daughter learned to esti- 
 mate the mind and principles of her father, and, combined 
 with her childish recollections of him, they served to cherish 
 in her breast a sentiment of filial love, as profound as it was 
 fervent. Often in these epistles had he spoken of returning, 
 but the intention was always contravened by some new plan 
 or unexpected circumstance. Indeed, the attraction of Euro- 
 pean life is generally enhanced by a return to it, after an 
 interval spent in other scenes. It is on revisiting southern 
 Europe especially that an American is best prepared justly 
 to estimate and duly to feel all that is peculiar in the two 
 hemispheres. The scene before him no longer excites by its 
 novelty. He is no longer a bewildered stranger. With a 
 more chastened but deeper interest, he regards the objects 
 around him. With a calmer and more intelligent patriotism, 
 he recalls the characteristics of his native land. The foreign 
 insignia which meets his view has something of a well-known 
 aspect ; and the eager gaze of curiosity is exchanged for the 
 quiet glance of recognition. Annoyances which he once 
 strongly deprecated now provoke a smile, for old acquaint- 
 ance has softened them ; and happy influences wake a thrill 
 of delight, for they are symbols of past pleasure, as well as 
 pledges of future enjoyment. The landscape is arrayed in 
 new charms, the church breathes a dearer solemnity, the pic- 
 ture glows with a brighter expressiveness, for often, since he 
 saw them last, has memory brooded over their quiet spells, 
 amid the noisy activity of hi^i distant country. The favorite 
 aria rises with a richer cadence, the chime of the campanile 
 steals upon the night-breeze with a holier music, and the soft 
 
16 SICILY. 
 
 accents of the south seem thrice beautiful; for, since last 
 heard, they have again and again been borne, on the wings of 
 fancy, across the trackless deep to his delighted ear. Ab- 
 sence has endeared what taste holds sacred in the Old 
 World, while a return to the bracing air of a young republic 
 has retaught the inestimable value of the principles which 
 have fled thither for nurture, from the clogged and heavy at- 
 mosphere of the old monarchies. In truth, no ideas can be 
 more false than many of those which it requires at least one 
 sojourn of an American in Europe to correct. There is a 
 vague notion prevalent among the untravelled, that abroad 
 there are many and peculiar means of enjoyment. In one 
 sense this is true ; but is it enough borne in mind, that the 
 only worthy pleasures peculiar to Europe are those of taste, 
 and that to enjoy these a certain preparedness is requisite? 
 The truth is, the legitimate gratifications of southern Europe 
 are eminently meditative. They are alike incompatible with 
 a spirit of restless ambition or gainful passion. They address 
 themselves to the imaginative and enthusiastic, to the con- 
 templative and intellectual ; to those who believe there is a 
 greater good than worldly success, a richer boon than the dis- 
 tinctions of office ; to those who believe that the process of 
 improvement does not consist wholly in action ; to those who 
 do not measure individual advancement merely by the direct 
 results of intellect ; to those who have faith in the refining 
 influences of art and nature, and a life of " meek self-content," 
 passed in the free and independent exercise of thought, im- 
 agination, and love ; and who, while they acknowledge fealty 
 to the demands of active duty, recognize the truth, that the 
 mind, like the earth, is enritlicd by lying fallow, and that a 
 tranquil life, if permitted by an individual's destiny, may be 
 rendered more truly profitable than one passed in the most 
 successful and renowned course of active usefulness. In such 
 
THE PILGRIMS. 17 
 
 considerations lav the spell which prolonged the exile of 
 Otley. 
 
 In the meantime Isabel had reaped the advantages of a 
 faithful private education and occasional visits to the princi- 
 pal cities of her country, and found herself, on her eighteenth 
 birthday, happily domesticated in the home of her childhood, 
 with the relatives who had fulfilled towards her the' duties of 
 parents. At this time she unfolded to her uncle the long- 
 cherished design of seeking and surprising her father in 
 Europe. He heard the proposal with surprise, but could not 
 long withhold his consent, and as Otley 's last letter expressed 
 an intention of making the tour of Sicily, it was soon deter- 
 mined that they should take advantage of an excellent op- 
 portunity which presented itself, and sail directly for that 
 island. In assenting to the wishes of Isabel, to whom he was 
 strongly attached, her uncle, who had travelled extensively in 
 early life, was influenced rather by a conviction that the tour 
 would benefit her mind and health than from any deep sym- 
 pathy in her views. CliiFord Frazier was a great admirer of 
 the institutions and manners of his country, and a thorough 
 utilitarian. Isabel Otley was an ardent and gifted idealist. 
 In her character were combined earnest and affectionate feel- 
 ing, with singular strength and independence of mind. '• There 
 are natures which seem, by virtue of -some innate principle, to 
 preserve, almost miraculously, their original beauty and fresh- 
 ness." Thus was it with her. She possessed that depth of 
 sentiment, that earnest sympathy with what is deep in the 
 experience of the heart, and what is exalted in the aspirations 
 of the soul, which gives to the gifts and graces of female 
 character an angelic semblance. She had not learned to re- 
 pose upon a mere conventional philosophy. The blighting 
 breath of artificial life had not crept like a frost over the fair 
 and flowery domain of her truthful spirit. Powers of no or-^ 
 
18 SICILY. 
 
 dinary strength aud captivation were eusbrined in an inner 
 and holy light, which chastened and rendered starlike the 
 native brilliancy of her mind, and subdued to a deeper flow 
 the earnest current of her feelings. 
 
€^i (Siumlm. 
 
 The doing evil to avoid an evil 
 
 Camiot be good. Wallenstkin. 
 
 ON a lovely afternoon they approached the harbor of Mes- 
 sina. The scene was surpassingly beautiful as the sun 
 descended. On the one side rose the high hills of Calabria, 
 and on the other the noble range of the Sicilian mountains. 
 The broadly undulating shapes of the latter were clothed 
 with the vivid verdure of the lemon and orange trees, and the 
 darker evergreen of the olive. On their tops, at intervals, 
 volumes of pearly mist reposed, and elsewhere the edge of 
 their summits was marked with the distinctness of a chiselled 
 line upon the clear back-ground of the horizon. The blue 
 smoke of the coal-pits above wreathed itself peacefully along 
 the green slopes, and up into the bright sky. Clusters of 
 white habitations were plmted here and there in the midst 
 of the verdant shrubbery, some of them seeming to hang 
 from an impending cliff. At a short distance from these 
 groups of habitations rose the square white towers of the 
 churches, pointing from the greensward to the serene heaven 
 above, their ancient hue contrasting finely with the freshness 
 of the beautiful temple of nature amid which they were 
 
20 SICILY. 
 
 reared. Nearer the shore, broad Imes of sandy earth indi- 
 cated the track of some mountain-torrent, and the many and 
 rich tints of the withered vineyards reflected, in brilliant 
 masses, the lateral rays of the setting sun. To give life to 
 the view, the figure of a passing pedestrian occasionally flit- 
 ted across the beach, and a knot of fishermen appeared near 
 the line of blue water, watching the progress of the vessel. 
 The clear chime of the Ave Maria stole softly from the val- 
 leys. All was peaceful, rich, and lovely as the land of promise ; 
 and when the sound of the vesper-bell thus floated over the 
 sea, it seemed to Isabel as if Nature was whispering a call to 
 her children from one of the fairest of her sanctuaries, to lure 
 them to join in her evening prayer. 
 
 Before midnight the ship was safely moored on that side 
 of the port of Messina appropriated to vessels in quarantine, 
 and the morning light revealed yet another prospect of sin- 
 gular beauty. At the foot of the picturesque range of moun- 
 tains, a part of which they had so attentively viewed the 
 previous evening, appeared the city, the lofty dome of its 
 cathedral, and the finely-wrought towers of the church of St. 
 Gregorio rising conspicuously among the dwellings. Half- 
 way up the hills, behind the town, stand two old forts, one 
 of which rises from a grassy esplanade in admirable keeping 
 with its massive gray walls, and between these fortifications 
 is reared the venerable monastery, with its dark rugged tower, 
 in which Richard Coeur de Lion took refuge on his way to 
 the Holy Land. At the water's edge appears the Marina, 
 lined with spacious buildings ; and here and there, half hid- 
 den by the shipping at the quay, groups might be seen scat- 
 tered along this wide promenade, and vehicles moving to and 
 fro in rapid succession. Yet, delightful as was the landscape, 
 Isabel and her uncle would gladly have abandoned their 
 favorable position, and joined those who constituted the 
 
THE QUARANTINE. 21 
 
 moving figures of the panorama — for- before their mental 
 vision was the less cheering prospect of a Sicilian quarantine. 
 Not without grateful emotions, however, did Isabel turn to 
 the lovely picture, which, during many days of anxiety and 
 weariness, was thus spread out before them. Nature ! how 
 like a kind mother thou art ! when thy wayward children 
 are so ingenious in devising methods of mutual torment, with 
 what a quiet and constant tenderness dost thou minister to 
 their pleasure ! How often did Isabel forget the ennui of 
 confinement, and lose, in bright imaginings, all sense of her 
 restricted condition in perusing the landscape before her. She 
 beheld it in every variety of aspect ; at sunrise, and in the 
 mellow light of evening, when clouds rested over it as a cano- 
 py, and when lit up into cheerfulness by the noonday glare. 
 She saw it when rendered still more enchanting by the moon- 
 beams, and watched the shadows of night as they stole over 
 it, till nauirht but the dark forms of the mountains and the 
 flickering lamps of the town were visible. She beheld it 
 shrouded in the gloom of the storm and spanned by the 
 glowing rainbow. 
 
 " Of life's annoyances," said Frazier, "few are more severe 
 than a Sicilian quarantine. A man of sense can always de- 
 rive consolation, when suffering from the regulations of 
 government, if he is able to perceive the utility of their en- 
 forcement. It is gratifying, when our convenience is invaded 
 by the operation of law, to feel there is reason for our dis- 
 comfort, that we are making an appropriate sacrifice to the 
 general good. Such a consideration is sufficient to still the 
 voice of complaint in every reflecting bosom. It is the irra- 
 tional and indiscriminate course pursued here which renders 
 the quarantine so vexatious. The slightest rumor, the most 
 unauthentic a ted report, or the veriest whim, is deemed suffi- 
 cient ground for sending away ships of every nation, or con- 
 
22 SICILY. 
 
 signing them to an indefinite suspension of intercourse. It is 
 now doubtful whether the time assigned will behold us at 
 liberty ; and the healthiness of the place of our embarkation, 
 and the unquestionable validity of our bill of health, and the 
 excellent condition of all on board, will not weigh a feather 
 in the scale. The low damp chambers of the lazzaretto are 
 quite calculated to induce sickness, while the fastidious are 
 in no degree likely to be cheered by the prospect of being 
 buried, ' unknelled and uncoffined,' in a hastily-dug pit, and 
 covered with quick-lime." 
 
 Surrounded by vessels of every name and nation, they 
 eagerly looked for the arrival of Christmas, the period desig- 
 nated for their landing. Sometimes, attended by a guard, 
 they perambulated the yard of the lazzaretto.^ or conversed 
 with acquaintances through a high railing. On these occa- 
 sions it was sometimes their fortune to behold the letters 
 they had carefully prepared for distant friends, cut uncere- 
 moniously, bathed in vinegar and smoked in sulphur, till all 
 their decent aspect was destroyed, and half their contents 
 obliterated. Another time they heard vague reports that 
 their durance would be prolonged, and returned to the nar- 
 row precincts of the vessel in a state of the most unenviable 
 suspense. Sometimes they amused themselves in watching 
 the fish and sea-nettles in the clear tide around, and at others 
 in tracing, with a spy-glass, some distant line of the prospect, 
 or endeavoring to discern the signal of an approaching ship. 
 At night the monotonous cheering of the guards, as they vo- 
 ciferously passed the watch-word from vessel to vessel, or the 
 twang of an antiquated violin, with which some neighbor be- 
 guiled the hours, disturbed their slumbers. 
 
 The festive day drew nigh, on the eve of which the Ital- 
 ians feast upon eels, and the morning of which the strangers 
 fondly hoped would shine upon their landing. Ere then they 
 
THE QUARANTINE. 23 
 
 received notice, that, until farther orders, they could not be 
 admitted to ^:>r<2^i^we. Such is a quarantine in Sicily. Brib- 
 ing will evade almost any of the legal penalties of the coun- 
 try, but the sanitary laws are enforced with a rigidness wor- 
 thy of more important objects connected with the general 
 welfare. The joyous anniversary arrived. Isabel pictured 
 its celebration across the wide waters in the circle of her 
 friends. She saw, in fancy, the glad meeting about the fire- 
 side ; she heard well-known voices interchange the gratula- 
 tions of the season ; she beheld dear forms moving up the 
 aisle her infant feet had trod ; she felt the glow of devotion 
 stirred by the preacher's earnest description of His meekness 
 and self-sacrifice, who centuries past, was born in Bethlehem. 
 She saw her kindred gather around the festive board, and 
 caught the tone of loved voices breathing fond hopes for her 
 welfare. She cared not to trace the picture farther, for she 
 had taken the blessed thought to her heart, that she was re- 
 membered. 
 
 For two days the wind had been free and strong, and on 
 this night it increased to a gale. The moon alternately shone 
 clearly forth, and illuminated the edges of an intervening 
 cloud, sending down a pale and melancholy light. In an 
 hour it blew a hurricane ; one of those sudden storms, pecu- 
 liar to the Mediterranean, whose desolate bowlings and sud- 
 den gusts drown all other sounds. Suddenly, as they stood 
 upon the quarter-deck, a noise like the snapping of metal-bars 
 was audible, and one of the many craft around shot from 
 among the vessels, and dashed forth steadily and with a 
 startling rapidity, as if under a press of canvass. Her masts 
 and dark tracery were relieved against the half-clear, half- 
 sullen atmosphere. All was hushed, save the deep solemn 
 roar of the gale. She seemed not a thing subject to human 
 government, and as she silently passed onward, and was lost 
 
24 SICILY. 
 
 to sight in tlie gloom, the legends she had read of spectre 
 ships came forcibly to the mind of Isabel. A few moments 
 passed, and the whole fleet beside them broke their moorings. 
 Then, as the vessels were thrown together, and spars and 
 cordage intermingled, the crash of yards, the bursting of 
 ropes, the grating of chains, the voices of command, and the 
 exclamations of fear, uttered in Italian, Grerman, and Eng- 
 lish, mingled with the unceasing roar of the tempest. Now 
 and then it lulled, only to be renewed with greater violence. 
 The iron rings imbedded in the old wall of the lazzarctto^ 
 which held the flotilla, had burst asunder, and thus caused 
 the accident. It was startling to see the fleet which had sur- 
 rounded them with a forest of masts, as it were by magic, in 
 the space of a few moments, all at once depart. It was thril- 
 ling to look over the bulwarks, and behold the broad bay 
 covered with foam, and perfectly solitary ! Most of the ves- 
 sels were thrown on a strip of land not far distant, and all 
 of them, in some degree, damaged. Those which had nearly 
 performed the required quarantine, being brought in contact 
 with the non-admitted vessels, were declared sfratto (ex- 
 pelled). There was enough of destruction around to enable 
 Isabel to realize the sufierings of those exposed to the un- 
 mitigated fury of the storm. At every new onset of the in- 
 visible but resistless power, she seemed to see the surges 
 whelming some hapless bark, and feel the shudder which fol- 
 lows the first deep crash of the careening fabric. In the 
 pauses of the storm, she thought her ear caught the quickly 
 whispered prayer, and on its rising whirl, the last agonizing 
 cry seemed to come. The next day brought them accounts 
 of the disasters of the night. " If all this damage," observed 
 Frazier, " had been incurred in an Atlantic port, it would be 
 instantly repaired by government or individuals. All the 
 losses are attributable to the insecurity of the fastenings. A 
 
THE QUARANTINE. 25 
 
 Sicilian quarantine exposes a man to the combined evils of 
 an abridgment of liberty, discomfort, suspense, and loss." 
 During this and many other of her uncle's complaining mo- 
 ments, Isabel was quietly regarding the scene around her, 
 now clothed with renewed beauty, and meditating upon the 
 prospect of that re-union, the hope of which had brought her 
 thither. When an important object is ever present to the 
 mind, lesser evils vanish ; and so much of uncertainty hung 
 over the enterprise of the fair pilgrim, that she scarcely knew 
 what circumstances were best adapted to promote it, and 
 therefore was more resigned to the course of events. Her 
 uncle, buoyed by no such faith or expectancy, felt more keenly 
 the inconveniences of the pilgrimage. 
 
 There are few situations, however, of unalleviated dis- 
 comfort, and accordingly it was not long before an agreeable 
 circumstance enlivened the monotony of their durance. On 
 board the adjoining vessel they had frequently observed a 
 young man, of graceful mien, and handsome, intelligent fea- 
 tures, apparently the only passenger ; and, on one occasion, 
 when they were visited by some friends from shore, he was 
 introduced to their acquaintance. Thenceforth their inter- 
 course was constant and interesting. Count Vittorio was a 
 native of Sicily, and had just returned from a visit to one of 
 the Italian cities. To the engaging manners and enthusiasm 
 of the South, he united talents of rare native power, greatly 
 improved by study and "travel. His society proved invalua- 
 ble to the strangers, and he was no less delighted to hold 
 communion with two such pleasing representatives of a coun- 
 try in whose institutions he felt deeply interested. Frazier 
 was happy to find so attentive an auditor, and never became 
 weary of expatiating on the political advantages and moral 
 pre-eminence of his native land ; while Isabel found still 
 greater pleasure in the vivid descriptions the count eloquently 
 
 2 
 
26 SICILY. 
 
 furnished of the arts, literature, and antiquities of the classic 
 region with which he was so familiar. In such conversations, 
 many hours of the tedious day were beguiled of their weari- 
 ness. The acquaintance thus formed, soon ripened into mu- 
 tual confidence ; and it was arranged that they should pro- 
 ceed in company through the island. Their hopes were soon 
 unexpectedly gratified by receiving, on a delightful evening, 
 permission to land. How eagerly did they spring from the 
 boat's prow upon the beach, and hasten to the yard of the 
 Health-office ! A few moments of ceremony sufficed ; the 
 little iron gate was thrown open, and they gladly hurried 
 through, like emancipated prisoners. 
 
Travel in the younger sort is the part of education ; in the elder, the part of ex- 
 perience. — Lord Bacon. 
 
 IT was noon before the travellers left Messina. On emerg- 
 ing from the suburbs into the open country, while the 
 cheerful sunlight was around them, showers were visible in 
 the distance. There is something exhilarating, in the high- 
 est degree, in the propitious commencement of a journey. 
 Never till this moment did it seem to Isabel that her pil- 
 griaiage had actually begun ; and as she cast her eyes over 
 the blue waters to the pretty town upon the Calabrian coast, 
 — that Rhegium whither St. Paul repaired after his ship- 
 wreck, now enveloped in a transparent mist, and glanced at 
 the bright leaves of the orange-trees near by, a pleasing con- 
 fidence took possession of her mind, which seemed the happy 
 assurance of success. The road displayed at every turn the 
 most delightful scenery. On the one side stretched the sea ; on 
 the other rose the mountains, Etna, covered with a snowy 
 drapery, reared itself above them ; and olive plantations lay 
 immediately beneath their gaze. Sometimes they crossed a 
 Jiumare — the broad bed of a mountain torrent covered with 
 stones, and extending from the midst of the hills down to 
 
28 SICILY. 
 
 the shore. These long and stony tracks, shooting through 
 the trees and herbage, with their barren and stern aspect, are 
 no ordinary emblems of destruction. The water, collected 
 in some natural basin in the mountains, rushes impetuously 
 down, sweeping everything before it, and leaving a long line 
 of rocks and earth to mark its devastating course. It is but 
 a few years since this carriage road was completed, and the 
 part of it which our party were now traversing gives ample 
 evidence of the labor it cost. In many places lofty hills have 
 been excavated, and massive ranges of rock cut through. 
 The rough sides thus presented to view display the various 
 oxydes which constitute the soil. Some of these cliffs, when 
 moistened by a recent rain, indicate, in bright tints, the dif- 
 ferent strata of which they are comjDOsed, and as one hurries 
 by them, afford a striking evidence of the geological richness 
 of the island. 
 
 Night fell before they reached the village destined for 
 their quarters. It consisted of two long rows of stone 
 houses, separated by a muddy street, so narrow as scarcely to 
 permit the passage of a carriage. As they entered, its ap- 
 pearance struck Isabel, whose fancy contrasted it with the 
 thriving and cheerful villages of her own country, as the most 
 dreary assemblage of human dwellings she had ever seen. 
 Here and there a light glimmered from one of the low doors, 
 or an old crone, in ragged habiliments, raised a torch above 
 her head, and peered curiously at the rumbling vehicle. The 
 dogs of the place, lank, wretched curs, rushed forth and barked 
 at the horses. All else was still and gloomy. Isabel drew 
 her cloak about her and descended at the locanda^ in a mood 
 quite the reverse of that which had marked the early part of 
 her ride. Woe to the fastidious traveller who has been only 
 accustomed to the delightful accommodations of an English 
 inn, when first he enters a Sicilian locanda ! All the visions 
 
JOURNEY TO CATANIA. 29 
 
 of comfort which have lightened the weariness of his eve- 
 ning's travel are dissipated in a moment. He ascends a long 
 and steep flight of stone steps, and enters a cold chamber, in 
 which are a few chairs and an old table. At one end of the 
 room are two or three alcoves, containing iron bedsteads, and 
 divided from the apartment by dingy curtains. A few time- 
 stained pictures hang about the wall. The hostess appears, 
 bearing a brazier filled with ignited charcoal, which she places 
 under the table. By the light of a lamp of ancient form she 
 spreads the meagre repast ; after which you are at liberty to 
 retire, and dream, if you can, of a blazing fire, a corpulent 
 host, and excellent cheer. The novelty of the scene was 
 amusing to Isabel, and sweet slumbers soon made her forget 
 its forbidding features. 
 
 Early the next morning their journey was resumed. The 
 country now presented an appearance of still greater fertility. 
 Plains, covered with fields of flax and lupens, extensive vine- 
 yards, now denuded of their foliage, but planted in a soil of 
 the finest loam, and mulberry-trees, of the most fantastic 
 shapes, diversified the face of the country. As the dawn ad- 
 vanced, every object acquired a fresher tint, and at the in- 
 stance of Isabel they all left the carriage to enjoy the scene 
 more freely. 
 
 '• I have heard much of the deceptiveness of apparent dis- 
 tances," said Isabel, " but this strikes me as the most re- 
 markable I ever knew. Are you quite sure, uncle, that we are 
 eight miles from yonder snow ?" pointing to the summit of 
 Etna, which was seemingly but a short distance on their right. 
 
 " It is at least as far off as that," he replied, " although 
 we feel so keenly the cold air it engenders. And mark, Isa- 
 bel, what a contrast is before us. In this field the laborers 
 are mowing a fine crop of green barley, which looks as well 
 as the grass of our meadows in June ; while beside us, the 
 
30 SICILY. 
 
 sides of the moimtain are deeply covered with snow. We 
 seem literally walking between summer and winter." 
 
 At this moment the dark cloud which hung along the 
 eastern horizon became fringed with hues of gold ; the vege- 
 tation around assumed more vivid tints ; the villages scat- 
 tered over the broad sides of Etna, seemed to smile in the 
 growing light, and directly above the cold, hoary summit of 
 the volcano, a single star gleamed forth from the pale, azure sky. 
 
 " How glorious !" exclaimed Isabel ; " what sacrifices is 
 not a scene like this worth !" 
 
 " It reminds me," said the count, " of that noble produc- 
 tion of Coleridge — the hymn in the vale of Chamouni : — 
 
 'Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star 
 In his swift course '? so long he seems to pause 
 On thy bald awful head, sovran Blanc !' 
 
 And then the invocation which the view inspires, how true 
 and expressive ! — 
 
 ' Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise 
 Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, 
 Mute thanks, and secret ecstasy ! Awake, 
 Voice of sweet song ! awake, my heart, awake ! 
 Green vales and icy cliffs — all join my hymn.' " 
 
 Subdued, and at the same time exalted by the presence 
 of Nature in a new form, Isabel yielded her spirit to the in- 
 fluences of the quiet hour and impressive scene, and wandered 
 in silent delight, till her uncle's voice calling her to re-enter 
 the carriage, awakened her from her day-dream. 
 
 In an hour they drew up before the public house of 
 Giarra. As they entered this town, the first of its rank 
 which Isabel had seen, she noted the objects around with 
 curiosity. Here were piles of cauliflowers exposed for sale, 
 
JO URNE Y TO CA TAN I A. 3 1 
 
 there long strings of macearoni suspended upon cane-poles to 
 dry ; here were a group of villagers from the mountain feed- 
 ing their mules, and on the sunny side of the street a knot 
 of women plying the distaff. It was soon determined to im- 
 prove the fine weather, and make an excursion upon the side 
 of Etna, which rose so invitingly before them. Mules were 
 procured, and they commenced ascending a very rugged ra- 
 vine, choked up with black lava-stones. After nearly two 
 hours of very fatiguing ascent, they stopped at a cottage to 
 rest. It was built of lava, and fronted by a little yard, in 
 which its mistress was sitting in the sun, spinning flax. She 
 was nearly a hundred years of age. Her face was strongly 
 marked, and brought forcibly to Frazier's mind some of the 
 Dutch portraits he had seen in the collections of Italy, where 
 the painter's aim seems to have been to copy nature with a 
 fidelity which betrayed all the painful lineaments of age. 
 Deep furrows indented her dark visage, and a tuft of white 
 hair protruded from beneath the hood that enveloped her 
 head. A large black pig, and several fowls, were straying 
 about the yard, and constituted the chief of the old woman's 
 substance. She invited them to enter her cottage. One 
 room answered all the purposes of the family. Here were 
 two beds, an old loom, a wax figure of the virgin and child, 
 and, in one corner, a huge butt of sour wine. 
 
 " You see how these people live," said the count ; '•' this 
 hut, built of the fatal material which has destroyed so many 
 human beings, has been inhabited for more than fifty years 
 by this poor creature. To visit the nearest village, and bend 
 at the altar of the old church, to bask in the sun in winter, 
 and sit in the shade in summer, to eat her small allowance 
 of roasted chestnuts, and drink her daily pitcher of thin wine 
 — this is her life ; she knows no other, and perhaps can con- 
 ceive of no better." 
 
32 SICILY. 
 
 • 
 
 The old woman's daugliter now made her appearance, 
 robed in black, with a white mantilla thrown over her head, 
 and a crucifix and beads suspended from her neck. She was 
 what is called in Sicily, a nun of the house, that is, a woman 
 who has taken vows of celibacy, and to perform certain acts 
 of ceremony and penance, but is not obliged to immure her- 
 self in a religious asylum. The nun busied herself in pre- 
 paring the food which Vittorio had ordered from one of the 
 little villages through which they had passed, occasionally 
 glancing, with deep interest, at the fair stranger and her com- 
 panions. After their rej)ast, the son, a bright and active 
 stripling, guided them on their way. They soon arrived at 
 a clump of fine old chestnut trees, whose gnarled and far- 
 spreading branches betokened sylvan antiquities of no ordi- 
 nary worth. Five of these trees surrounding a wide space, 
 according to tradition, are but the dissevered trunk of one 
 huge tree, and therefore called the tree of the hundred horses, 
 because it is said that that number of steeds could make the 
 circuit of the hollow trunk. Another and more probable 
 reason for the appellation is, that the tree, in its flourishing 
 days, could shelter a hundred mounted horsemen. Frazier 
 was a connoisseur in forest trees, and, while he did not im 
 plicitly credit this marvellous tale, yet dwelt with strong in 
 terest upon the rough features of these woodland patriarchs. 
 The agile peasant ran up into the branches of the old chest 
 nuts, like a monkey, ever and anon thrusting his head from 
 some hollow, and smiling upon the travellers. He wore a 
 long cap of white cotton, and an old velvet jerkin, and as he 
 thus appeared, peering from some hole in the massive 
 branches, Isabel wished there had been time to sketch the 
 curious picture which the contrast produced. But the sun 
 was fast descending, and they turned their faces towards the 
 town below. Then burst upon their sight one of the richest 
 
JOURNEY TO CATANIA. 33 
 
 and most variegated landscapes it had ever been the lot of 
 either to witness. The broad plains of Mascali were spread 
 out like a map beneath them. Fields covered with dry canes 
 of a light yellow hue, patches of green grain and dark masses 
 — the site of vineyards or arable land — combined to form a 
 parterre, which, as the setting sun fell richly over it, had all 
 the effect of an extensive garden. Beyond was the Mediter- 
 ranean, flecked with a few snow-white sails ; far away to the 
 left, Taormina, hanging, as it were, on a bold promontory, on 
 the summit of which are the remains of an extensive amphi- 
 theatre, and nearer around the slopes and valleys, the lava- 
 beds and trees of the venerable mountain. If the morning's 
 prospect inspired something of awe, that of the evening only 
 excited gladsome sensations. It spoke of plenty, of fertility, 
 of a bounteous and beautiful country. 
 
 " How unutterably sad," said Vittorio, as they were slowly 
 descending, " that so fair a heritage should be so unhappily 
 peopled — that superstition and ignorance should overshadow 
 so rich a domain, and that where we rejoice so highly in the 
 exuberance and fine array of nature, we must mourn most 
 deeply for the poverty and wretched condition of humanity." 
 
 " One would think," replied Isabel, " that to live amid 
 such influences as these — to have sweet harmony breathed 
 upon the soul from such aspects of creation, day by day, and 
 year by year, would impart a blessedness which even the de- 
 grading agencies at work upon these poor people could not 
 supersede." 
 
 '• Government is more of a reality to most men than na- 
 ture," drily observed her uncle. 
 
 " Happily, however," she replied, " nature operates silently, 
 and may produce effects upon character of which the casual 
 spectator dreams not." 
 
 " YeSj" added the count, " and it is a happy thought, th^t 
 
 2# 
 
34 SICILY. 
 
 many a noble aspiration or grateful sentiment may liave been 
 aroused in the breast of the poor villager, as he descended 
 this path, with no companion but his mule, and looked forth, 
 as we now do, upon the luxuria^it earth and the glad sea. 
 There is a lesson for the wisest, and a balm for the most 
 stricken, in this landscape." 
 
 For some moments they continued the descent in silence, 
 till an exclamation from one of the party caused them to 
 look back. From the white and lofty cone of Etna, a dense 
 column of smoke was rising majestically. To the height of 
 several yards, it ascended in a perpendicular line, and then 
 gracefully turning, floated in a wide and saffron-colored streak 
 along the face of the sky. 
 
 " This is all you wanted to complete your day's good for- 
 tune," said the guide ; " it is not for every stranger that the 
 mountain will smoke." They continued to watch this inter- 
 esting phenomenon long after their return to Giarra ; and 
 when night had overshadowed the scene, a few flashes of 
 flame from the awakened crater, and an almost constant effu- 
 sion of sparks, amply repaid them for their vigil. 
 
 The next day proved as fine as the preceding, and to ob- 
 tain a more pleasing succession of prospects, it was deter- 
 mined to prosecute the remainder of their journey by the 
 mule-path. As the distance was but about twenty-seven 
 miles, it was not deemed desirable to depart before early 
 noon. Isabel devoted the intervening time to repose ; Vit- 
 torio went to make the necessary arrangements ] and Frazier 
 repaired to the adjoining village to visit a wine-merchant, 
 with whom he had been acquainted many years before in 
 England. When the party again came together and resumed 
 their journey, they found themselves for some time upon the 
 carriage-road, and in view of scenery not differing essentially 
 f^om that of the preceding day. Occasionally they passed 
 
JOURNEY TO CATANIA. 35 
 
 large flocks of goats, driven by boys, who carried the young 
 kids slung upon their shoulders, or a company of peasants, 
 each with his donkey, bearing, in long, narrow barrels, hung 
 like panniers, wine from the hills into the neighboring town. 
 
 " My friend told me," said Frazier, " that the chief em- 
 ployment of these people is to transport the wine in this 
 manner. It is taken from lar;]^e butts, such as we saw at the 
 sottage yesterday. Each of those little casks contains about 
 eighteen gallons of the most ordinary wine the country pro- 
 duces. It is chiefly used for distillation, yielding about one 
 part in seven of pure spirit. The compensation these car- 
 riers obtain would not be considered in America as equiva- 
 lent for an hour's work. But in time of vintage their pay is 
 increased, and after all, in this country, it requires little to 
 support life." 
 
 " No," said Vittorio ; '• give a Sicilian peasant a little 
 fennel or roasted pulse, a small dish of maccaroni, or a few 
 pounds of bread with a mug of common wine, and he fares 
 like a lord." 
 
 " But seldom acquires the strength of a man," replied 
 Frazier ; '• for notwithstanding their broad chests and muscu- 
 lar limbs, they cannot be called strong, at least in proportion 
 to appearances." 
 
 " You have told us nothing, uncle," said Isabel, '• of your 
 visit to Riposto. How did }• ou find your old friend ?" 
 
 " I found him sitting on an old sofa, in a bare-looking 
 room, stirring the coals in a brazier with the key of his maga- 
 zine. I rallied him upon his taste in preferring so dreary a 
 life on the coast of Sicily to the comforts of old England. 
 But he declared himself well satisfied with his lot. There 
 he was, surrounded with coopers, stills, freighting boats, jack- 
 asses, a few chemical books, and a set of half-civilized Sicil- 
 ians — all the paraphernalia of a wine-merchant on the coast ; 
 
36 SICILY. 
 
 as busy and happy in his exile as many who had never been 
 away from the light of their own firesides. Such is the force 
 of habit. In practical application, in forwarding, however 
 humbly, the economy of life, almost any man may enjoy a 
 contented existence." 
 
 " A contented, granted, uncle," said Isabel, " but not ne- 
 cessarily a happy or an improving one." 
 
 " Riposto," continued Frazier, " fifty years since, was a 
 meagre collsction of cane-huts. Now there are many sub- 
 stantial dwellings, but like every other house in this region, 
 miserably planned, cold, dark, and comfortless. The beach 
 is covered with barrels. Coasting vessels are continually 
 launched, loaded with wine, and the little town looks quite 
 bustling. Were it situated, with all its local advantages, in 
 New England, they would connect it forthwith with the capi- 
 tal by a rail-road, speculate in the land for miles around, and 
 prophesy a city charter for it in less than a twelvemonth." 
 
 The mule-path into which they now entered was through a 
 lava soil. At one point the old lava, lying in masses half 
 covered with vegetation, indicates the scene of that eruption 
 which stayed the progress of the Roman army on its way to 
 quell an insurrection in Syracuse, and obliged them to turn 
 and make the circuit of the island in another direction. Pass- 
 ing through the broad clear street of Aci Reale, Isabel looked 
 up to the decayed palaces, and on the groups of well-cloaked 
 loiterers in the piazza, and forcibly felt the impoverished con- 
 dition of even the finest localities. Sometimes she amused 
 herself with noting the defiiced escutcheon upon an ancient 
 gateway, sometimes in watching the thin, white line of smoke 
 hanging over Etna, and at others, in seeking, amid the sur- 
 rounding trees, for the oak and the fir, the pleasant emblems 
 of her native land, which, at intervals, varied the scene. The 
 increase of the lava-beds, and the greater prevalence of the 
 
JOURNEY TO CATANIA. 37 
 
 olive-tree, at length evidenced that they were near their des- 
 tination. And soon after they paused at a little elevation, 
 and, with new delights, Isabel beheld upon a verdant plain 
 near the sea, the Saracenic domes and wide-spreading dwel- 
 lings of Catania. 
 
I have learned 
 To look on Nature, not as in the hour 
 Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes 
 The still sad music of humanity. Wordsworth. 
 
 rpHE late Prince of BIscari was the Roscoe of Catania 
 -*- Affluent, as well as nobly born, instead of leading the 
 selfish and dissipated life too common among the Sicilian no- 
 bility, he assiduously devoted his wealth and influence to the 
 cause of liberal taste. Many works of public utility, entirely 
 the result of his enterprise and philanthropy, are to be seen 
 both within and without his native city. His house was the 
 resort of strangers, to whom he extended the greatest hospi- 
 tality. The beautiful granite columns attached to the cathe- 
 dral of St. Agatha, by Roger, the traces of baths in the vaults 
 beneath, a few arches of an aqueduct in the campagiia^ and 
 the subterranean remains of an amphitheatre near one of the 
 gates, would be the chief antiquities of which the Catanese 
 could boast had it not been for the exertions of Biscari. At 
 his expense nearly the whole of a Greek theatre has been 
 excavated, and many valuable relics collected and arranged 
 in a museum, which bears his name. These labors would 
 doubtless have proceeded much further, and been productive 
 
B ISC ART. 39 
 
 of the most pleasing fruits, had the life of the generous no- 
 bleman been spared. Enough, however, was accomplished to 
 render his name illustrious as a public benefactor, and to ex- 
 emplify how widely useful wealth may become in the hands 
 of one with liberality freely to bestow it, and judgment wisely 
 to direct its disbursement. 
 
 As Isabel, Yittorio, and Frazier, were on their way to 
 visit these vestiges of antiquity, they were struck with the 
 unusual number of devotees surrounding a shrine under a 
 long archway. The object of their reverence was a celebrated 
 madonna, exquisitely painted upon a slab of lava. Though 
 quite ancient, the colors wore a fresh appearance, and the 
 face was in that peculiar style of meek and pensive beauty 
 which distinguishes these products of the pencil. Around 
 the picture were hung human limbs moulded in wax, and the 
 figures of infants, upon which were colored the tokens of dis- 
 ease. " These," said Vittorio, '• are the emblems of miracu- 
 lous cures, and are placed there as grateful ojBFerings by the 
 sufferers, whose prayers this virgin is supposed to have an- 
 swered. This is a common method of acknowledging the 
 favors of saints in Sicily." 
 
 Near the principal ruin stands the frame-work of a lesser 
 theatre, wherein the musicians rehearsed. Beneath the dingy 
 hues of time, and the marks of violation, it is still possible to 
 descry a few architectural indications of what the edifice 
 formly was. But the travellers were principally struck with 
 the contrast between the original purpose and present appro- 
 priation of the building. It is, and has been for years, the 
 dwelling-place of a score of poor families, whom long usage, 
 more than right of property, has left in undisputed possession. 
 
 " Here is a change indeed !" said the count — " the temple 
 of harmony converted into a poor-house ; the spot consecrated • 
 to the study of an elevating science, where Grecian professors 
 
40 SICILY. 
 
 were wont to vie with each other in melodious strains, become 
 the last refuge of the sons of want ! Where rich cadences 
 echoed, half-starved children cry ; where the dark, clear eye 
 of the enthusiastic musician kindled, are the haggard faces of 
 beggars. Sounds of complaint and emblems of squalid misery 
 fill the walls where a luxurious art was cultivated, and the 
 victims of indigence throng the once gay resort of the vota- 
 ries of Euterpe !" 
 
 They passed on and entered the area of the theatre. 
 Several rows of stone seats are here discoverable, overgrown 
 with weeds, and at their base flows a limpid spring. To 
 Isabel the scene was altogether new. She traced the passages 
 along which the spectators passed, the places assigned to the 
 distinguished among the audience, and endeavored to picture 
 the whole fabric, of which the portion now discernible was 
 evidently but a small part. She fancied the brilliancy of the 
 scene, when the cold stones around her were hidden by the 
 assembled multitude ] when ranges of human faces were 
 turned in myriads toward the scena ; when the profound 
 stillness of attention, the deep murmur of approval, and the 
 loud acclamations of delight alternately stirred the now still 
 air. She thought of the eyes that once glistened with emo- 
 tion in that place, now rayless — of the human hearts which 
 responded, in tumultuous beatings, to the voice of song or 
 the appeal of eloquence, now pulseless forever. She thought 
 of the efforts of thought, the thrills of feeling, and the beam- 
 ings of inspiration, which this deserted scene might have 
 witnessed ; and as she musingly gazed upon the marble, half 
 covered with lava, corroded by time, and clad in the rank 
 herbage which shrouds the neglected works of man, a new 
 and solemn sense of the revolutions of time stole over her, 
 like the slowly-gathering shadows of an autumn evening, 
 chastening each passion for earthly meeds, and bringing home 
 
BISCARI. 41 
 
 to the heart the truth, that that alone in man is eternal 
 •which allies him to his Maker. With torches they explored 
 the damp and lonely corridors. Vittorio plucked a rose from 
 a little bush which had taken root in one of the interstices 
 of the seats, and gave it to Isabel as a memento of their visit. 
 " Thus," said he, " nature flourishes amid the decay of art, as 
 the mind's flowers bloom over and survive the destruction of 
 its tenement. It has been asserted, and with some reason, 
 that Alcibiades once delivered an oration in this theatre. 
 There can be no doubt that it has beheld some master efforts 
 of Grecian genius. And what though solitude and ruin mark 
 the spot ? What though the voice whose accents roused every 
 heart is hushed ? What though the people that once congre- 
 gated here are extinct ? Their essence lives, their poetry and 
 philosophy — their history is deathless. What was false in 
 their principles has been superseded ; what is true has been 
 propelled into the eternal tide of humanity, and is immortal." 
 In the little chamber of the museum devoted to bronzes, 
 Isabel noted with curiosity the implements of domestic econo- 
 my, and the symbols of a period and a people long since 
 passed away. To Yittorio, who was familiar with the Vatican 
 and the Museo Borbonico, the collection, though interesting, 
 was not so impressive as to the less experienced mind of his 
 fair companion. She handled the curiously-wrought lamps 
 which once illuminated the dwelling of a Grecian family, and 
 inspected the little images which had constituted its house- 
 hold gods, with mingled interest and incredulity. It had not 
 been difl&cult for her to realize the ancient origin of the tem- 
 ple whose decayed magnificence speaks eloquently of the past, 
 but to feel that she was surrounded by the domestic utensils, 
 the objects anciently familiar to that people whom she had 
 been wont to regard with such reverence, seemed scarcely 
 possible. 
 
42 SICILY. 
 
 " The more I view the emblems of antiquity," she re- 
 marked, "the more vividly I feel the truth of that trite 
 saying — that ours is a common nature ; that the same pas- 
 sions have swayed and the same general constitution charac- 
 terized man from the earliest ages. I know not how it is, but 
 I have never been able to feel till now that the ancients were 
 men, such men as now people the earth,, only differing in 
 mode of life and method of development. But when I look 
 upon these things, I feel that their wants were like ours — 
 that the same burden of necessity was laid upon them ; but 
 that, in the earnest culture of the intellectual and ideal, they 
 beautified, as it were, the rough pathway of destiny, and 
 warmed the weary atmosphere of being with the heavenly 
 glow of enthusiasm." 
 
 " What more striking evidence of the universal love of 
 distinction which distinguishes the world can we have than 
 this?" inquired Yittorio, pointing to some bronze toys. 
 " These were the playthings of the patrician children : oppo- 
 site are the same devices, wrought in the more humble ma- 
 terial of terra cotta^ for the diversion of the poorer class. 
 The higher ranks then had penates and lamps of metal, the 
 lower of earth. Now, in these streets, the duke wears a cloak 
 of fine cloth, the laborer a garment of cotton. Such are the 
 poor badges of earthly distinction !" 
 
 They turned to look for Frazier. He was standing, with 
 folded arms, attentively regarding a birchen canoe — an 
 American trophy. Isabel, too, paused before the same ob- 
 ject, and for some moments her mind wandered from the 
 Grecian era to her father-land. Visions of blue lakes and 
 green forests rose to view. She thought of her pleasant home, 
 and mused upon the object of her pilgrimage, and her eye 
 grew dim as she remembered how doubtful it still was whether 
 she should ever retrace those scenes as the compA,nion of her 
 
BISCARI. 43 
 
 father. Vittorio was meanwhile admiring the splendid Torso 
 which adorns the collection, and is a masterpiece of Grecian 
 sculpture. 
 
 " You talk of the Greeks," said Frazier to his niece ; 
 " but who shall say that the rude people whom this canoe 
 represents understood not as much of the philosophy of life ? 
 You smile ; but remember, Isabel, that the ancients were a 
 luxurious race. They often cultivated the ornamental at the 
 expense of the useful. They environed themselves with ar- 
 rangements expensive and enerviiting. Their baths and the- 
 atres, their statues and paintings, were agents of improve- 
 ment, it is true, but how often did they become the means 
 of voluptuous ease and selfish indulgence ! The sons of the 
 forest, on the other hand, cherished an active, free, and noble 
 life. Their bodies expanded as the Creator intended they 
 should ; and habits of graceful activity and stern endurance 
 marked them for men." 
 
 " Yes," said Isabel, smiling at his warmth, " and for sym- 
 bols of the beautiful they had no need. Architecture they 
 beheld in the vaulted sky, in the erect shaft of the forest tree, 
 in the green and gloomy aisles of the woodland. Statuary 
 was finely illustrated in their own persons, and for the most 
 magnificent landscapes, they had but to gaze upon the west- 
 ern horizon, or into the clear mirror of the placid lakes. 
 Thus furnished, their minds were nurtured, perhaps, but un- 
 fortunately for your theory, never progressed." 
 
 " I pray you," said Vittorio, " mark well these two busts, 
 for they represent personages who are intimately associated 
 with Sicily. That large head, garlanded with ears of corn, 
 is Ceres. Would you have thought the goddess of so mas- 
 culine and rustic a mien ? There is the bust of one of the 
 most distinguished generals of that nation, whose incursions 
 have so often ravaged the fair face of this island. Note the 
 
44 - SICILY 
 
 stern and heavy features, the bald head, and that deep scar : 
 they proclaim Scipio Africanus." 
 
 Polished lava, Sicilian marbles, and a few little cabinets 
 in the several departments of natural history, served for a 
 while longer to entertain the visitors. The figures of a dead 
 maiden and laughing boy illustrated the devotion to nature, 
 which, more than any other characteristic, is evinced in the 
 specimens of Greek sculpture. A few pretty examples of 
 the chisel of Cali, the most celebrated modern Catanese 
 sculptor, also drew their attention. After viewing the Etrus- 
 can vases, one or two of which are of a rare order, and lin- 
 gering among the fine old columnar fragments in the court, 
 they left the quiet precincts of the museum. 
 
SinrBiijn %t\\iul 
 
 Point not these mysteries to an art, 
 
 Lodged above the starry pole ; 
 
 Pure modulations flowing from the heart 
 
 Of divine Love, where wisdom, beauty, truth, 
 
 With order dwell in endless youth ? Wordsworth. 
 
 IN the narrow street of St. Christofero, in Catania, and near 
 the little church of the same order, now superseded by a 
 larger edifice, was born the most beautiful composer of our 
 times. To the imaginative mind of Isabel his name and 
 memory were sacredly endeared. It has been said, that no 
 after maturity of judgment can dissolve the spell by which 
 the first poet we ever understood and enjoyed is hallowed in 
 our estimation. On the same principle, the composer whose 
 works are the means of awakening in our hearts a new sense 
 of the wonder and power of his art, whose compositions sway 
 our spirits as no others have done, and address our associa- 
 tions with an eloquence, compared with which all similar lan- 
 guage is unimpressive, holds a place in our estimation and 
 affections second to that of no intellectual benefactor. He 
 has opened to us a new world. He has brought a hitherto 
 untried influence to stir the ocean of feeling. He has created 
 yet another joy in the dim circle of our experience, and woven 
 
46 SICILY. 
 
 a fresh and perennial flower into the withered garland of life. 
 With the thought of Bellini, embalmed in such a sentiment 
 of gratitude, Isabel, accompanied by the count, who had ar- 
 ranged the visit for her gratification, went forth to view the 
 memorials of the departed that were in the possession of his 
 family. 
 
 '•' The young Yincenzo," said Vittorio, " from his earliest 
 infancy, gave evidence of the genius of his nature. His sus- 
 ceptibility to musical sounds was remarkable. He could be 
 moved, at any time, to tears or laughter, to sadness or ecs- 
 tacy, by the voice of harmony. While a mere child, after 
 hearing on public occasions a new air, he would, on returning 
 home, from memory transcribe it. At eight years old his 
 little hands ran over the keys of the organ, at the Benedic- 
 tine convent, with surprising facility. His first compositions 
 were occasional pieces of sacred music. It was early discov- 
 ered that he was a proper object of patronage, and, soon after 
 arriving at manhood, he was sent, at the expense of govern- 
 ment, to study at Naples and Home. The result of an ac- 
 quaintance with what had been efiected in his art was to 
 make more clearly perceptible to his mind the necessity of 
 a new school. The history of genius in every department is 
 almost always a record of conflicts — of struggles against what 
 is dominant. Thus the early efi'orts of Bellini were fre- 
 quently unappreciated and misunderstood. Still he perse- 
 vered in consulting the oracle of his own gifts, and in devel- 
 oping the peculiar and now universally admired style which 
 marks his compositions. The first of his successful operas 
 was the Pirata, then the Straniera, then the Somnambula, 
 and then Norma.* In each successive work we can trace a 
 
 * L'Adelson e Salvini, represented before the Institution at Naples, 
 was the first open experiment of Bellini's genius, followed, in 1826, by 
 Bianca e Fernando, at the St. Carlo Theatre. II Pirata and La Stra- 
 
VINCENZO BELLIh 47 
 
 decided progression. The first is pretty, often beautiful ; the 
 last is throughout beautiful, and frequently sublime. It is a 
 delightful thought, that in a country where literary talent is 
 repelled by the restrictions on the press, musical genius is 
 untrammelled, and human sentiment may, through this me- 
 dium, find free and glorious development." 
 
 " I have always regarded music," said Isabel, " as the per- 
 fection of language." 
 
 " Undoubtedly it should be so considered, and although 
 the censors jealously guard the actual verbal expressions at- 
 tached to operas, to a true imagination and just sensibility, 
 the mere notes of masterpieces are perfectly distinguishable, 
 as expressive of the thousand sentiments which sway the 
 heart. Bellini, it is believed, was one of that secret society 
 which has for some time existed, under the title of " Young 
 Italy," whose aim is the restoration of these regions to inde- 
 pendence ; and we can read, or rather feel, the depth and fer- 
 vor of his liberal sentiments, breathing in the glowing strains 
 of his last opera — the Puritani." 
 
 Thus conversing, they arrived at the residence of his fam- 
 ily, where, with emotions of melancholy interest, they viewed 
 the tokens of his brief but brilliant career. There were little 
 remembrancers whose workmanship testified that they were 
 wrought by fair hands ; the order of the legion of honor ; a 
 rich carpet, worked by the ladies of Milan, with the names 
 of his operas tastefully interwoven, and many fantasies and 
 fragments written by his own hand. There was something 
 indescribably touching in the sight of these trophies. Isabel 
 felt, as she gazed upon them, how empty and unavailing are 
 
 niera, successively produced at the Scala in Milan, completely estab- 
 lished his reputation. The Montecchi e Capuleti was brought out 
 soon after at Venice. The Somnambula and Norma at Milan, and the 
 Puritani in Paris. 
 
48 SICILY. 
 
 the tributes men pay to living genius compared with thai 
 heritage of fame which is its after-recompense. What were 
 these glittering orders to the breast they once adorned — now 
 mouldering in the grave ? And these indications of woman's 
 regard, which, perhaps, more than any other, pleased the 
 heart of the young Catanese ? How like the deckings of 
 vanity did they seem now, when he for whom they were play- 
 fully wrought was enshrined among the sons of fame ! How 
 sad, too, to behold the slight characters and unconnected 
 notes — the recorded inspiration of him who alone could 
 rightly combine and truly set forth their meaning ! How 
 affecting to look upon these characters — the pencillings of 
 genius, and remember that the hand which inscribed them 
 was cold in the tomb ! But Isabel dwelt longest and most 
 intently upon a miniature of Bellini, taken at the age of 
 twenty-three, after the representation of the Pirata. It por- 
 trayed the youthful composer with a pale intellectual counte- 
 nance, an expansive and noble brow, and hair of the lightest 
 auburn. There was a striking union of gentleness and in- 
 telligence, of lofty capacity and kindly feeling, in the por- 
 trait, 
 
 " How unlike the generality of his countrymen !" ex- 
 claimed Isabel, who had looked for the dark eye and hair of 
 the nation. 
 
 " Nature, in every respect," replied Vittorio, " marked 
 him for a peculiar being. Yet the softness and quiet repose 
 of the countenance is like his harmony. The mildness of 
 the eye and the delicacy of the complexion speak of refine- 
 ment. The whole physiognomy is indicative of taste and 
 sentiment, a susceptibility and grace almost womanly, and, at 
 the same time, a thoughtfulness and calm beauty, which 
 speak of intellectual labor and suffering. The face of Bel- 
 lini here depicted, is like his music, moving, expressive, and 
 
VINCENZO BELLINI. 49 
 
 graceful. I have seen portraits taken at a later age witli 
 less of youth, and perhaps, for that reason, less of interest in 
 their expression. During his lifetime all he received for his 
 works, not absolutely requisite for his support, was imme- 
 diately sent to his family. And now his aged father may be 
 said, in a double sense, to live on the fame of his son, since, 
 in consideration of that son's arduous labors in the cause of 
 music, which in southern Europe may be considered perhaps 
 the only truly national object of common interest, the old 
 man receives a pension from government, quite adequate to 
 his maintenance." 
 
 " I think," said Isabel, as the party were seated in the 
 opera-house the same evening, " that the great characteristic 
 of Bellini is what may be called his metaphysical accuracy. 
 There is an intimate correspondence between the idea of the 
 drama and the notes of the music. What a perfect tone of 
 disappointed aflfection lurks in the strain '- Ah ! perche non 
 posso odiarti V — the favorite air in the Somnambula ; and 
 who that should unpreparedly hear the last duet of the Nor- 
 ma, would not instantly feel that it is the mingled expression 
 of despair and fondness 1 How warlike and rousing are the 
 Druidical choruses, and what peace breathes in the Hymn to 
 the Moon ! It is this delicate and earnest adaptation of the 
 music to the sentiment, this typifying of emotion in melody, 
 that seems to me to render Bellini's strains so heart-stirring." 
 
 " In other words," said Vittorio, " he affects us power- 
 fully, for the same reason that Shakspeare, or any other uni- 
 versally acknowledged genius, excites our sympathy. His 
 music is t7-ue. He has beeh called the Petrarch of harmony, 
 that poet being deemed by the Italians the most perfect por- 
 tray er of love." 
 
 " And would that his fate had been more like that bard's !" 
 exclaimed Isabel. " How melancholy that he should have 
 
 O 
 
r 
 
 SICILY. 
 
 died so young, in the very moment, as it were, of success and 
 honor ! I shall never forget the sorrow I felt when his death 
 was announced to me. I was in a ball-room. The scene was 
 gay and festive. The band had performed in succession the 
 most admired quadrilles from his operas. I was standing in 
 a circle which surrounded a party of waltzers, and expressed 
 the delight I had received from the airs we had just heard. 
 My companion responded, and sighing, calmly said, ' What a 
 pity he will compose no more !' When I thus learned the 
 fact of his death, and afterwards the particulars, a gloom 
 came over my spirits, which, during the evening, had been 
 uncommonly buoyant. I retired to the most solitary part 
 of the room, and indulged the reflections thus suddenly 
 awakened. ' How few,' thought I, ' of this gay throng, as they 
 dance to the enlivening measures of Bellini, will breathe a 
 sigh for his untimely end, or give a grateful thought to his 
 memory.' Some of the company passed me on their way to 
 the music-room. I joined them. A distinguished amateur, 
 with a fine bass voice, had taken his seat at the instrument. 
 For a moment he turned over the book listlessly, and then, 
 as if inspired by a pleasing recollection, burst forth in that 
 mournfully-beautiful cavatina, ' Vi ravisso hioghi anmnV 
 He sang it with much feeling. There was silent and pro- 
 found attention. The tears rose to my eyes. To my excited 
 imagination we seemed to be listening to the dirge of Bellini; 
 and, as the last lengthened note died on the lips of the vocal- 
 ist — thus, thought I, he expired. Little did I then think I 
 should ever see the native city of the compo^cr^ or sit in the 
 opera-house which he doubtless frequented." 
 
 " It but this moment occurred to me," replied Vittorio, - 
 " that, perhaps, in this very place Bellini first learned to ap- 
 preciate the science he afterwards so signally advanced ; to 
 realize the expressiveness of the agency he afterwards so ef 
 
VINCENZO BELLINI. 51 
 
 fcctually wielded ; to feel tbo power of the art to whose ad- 
 vancement he afterwards bo nobly contributed. Perhaps 
 here first dawned on his young ambition the thought of being 
 a composer. Perhaps, as the breathings of love, grief, fear, 
 and triumph here stirred his youthful breast, the bright hope 
 of embodying them in thrilling music, and thus living in his 
 ' land's language,' rose, like the star of destiny, before his 
 awakened fancy." 
 
 There is a narrow but sequestered road leading from Ca- 
 tania to Cifali, just without the Porta D' Aci. A low plaster 
 wall separates it on both sides from extensive gardens, the 
 site of an ancient burial-place, where memorials of the dead 
 have been frequently disinterred. Over the top of these 
 boundaries the orange and almond trees, in the season of 
 spring, refresh the pedestrian with their blossoms and per- 
 fume. In the early mornings of summer, or at the close of 
 the day, this road is often sought by the meditative, being 
 less frequented than most of the other highways leading from 
 the city. There one can stroll along and interest himself 
 with the thought of the now extinct people near whose ruined 
 sepulchres he is treading, or gaze upon the broad face and 
 swellino; cone of Etna which rises before him. At an a2;reea- 
 ble distance from the commencement of this path is an old 
 monastery of Franciscans. The floor of the venerable church 
 is covered with the deeply-carved tablets, beneath which are 
 the remains of the Catanese nobility, their arms elaborately 
 sculptured upon the cold slabs. Strangers sometimes visit a 
 chapel adjacent to see a well-executed bust, which displays 
 the features of the nobleman who lies beneath, and is thought 
 to be the co^jo cVopei'a of a Roman sculptor. The adjoining 
 chapel is assigned as the last resting-place of Vincenzo Bel- 
 lini, whose monument will soon exhibit its fresh-chiselled 
 aspect amid the time-worn emblems around. Thither, one 
 
62 SICILY. 
 
 morning, Isabel and the count wandered, and, after leaving 
 the church, sat ujion a stone bench which overlooked the 
 scene, and to her inquiries as to the funeral honors paid, in 
 his native island, to the memory of the composer, he replied — 
 
 " You should have witnessed in order to realize the uni- 
 versal grief of the Catanese. Business was suspended. 
 Every voice faltered as it repeated the tidings ; every eye 
 was moistened as it marked the badges of mourning. In the 
 capital the same spirit prevailed. There, but a few months 
 previous, the king entered the city, and no voice hailed him, 
 because the professions made at the outset of his reign were 
 unfulfilled. The gifted composer came, and acclamations 
 welcomed him. Every testimony of private regard and pub- 
 lic honor was displayed. His sojourn was a festival — so the 
 news of his death created universal grief Here, in the spirit 
 of antiquity, an oration was pronounced in the theatre, his 
 favorite airs performed, and actors, in the old Sicilian cos- 
 tume, represented the effect of his death by an appropriate 
 piece, with mournful music. In the streets were processions, 
 in the churches masses, and in the heart of every citizen pro- 
 found regret." 
 
 " And this," said Isabel, glancing over the scene, " is a 
 fit place for his repose. He will sleep at the foot of Etna, 
 amid the nobles of his native city. The ladies of this villa, 
 as they wander through the garden in the still summer even- 
 ings, will sing his most soothing strains. The peasant, as he 
 rides by on his mule, at the cool hour of dawn, will play upon 
 his reeds the gladdest notes, the choir in the church will 
 chant the anthems, and the blind violinist, as he rests by the 
 road-side, cheer himself with the pleasant music of the de- 
 parted composer." 
 
 They rose to depart. As Isabel looked back, and began 
 to lose sight of the ancient convent, she observed a lofty ej- 
 
VINCENZO BELLINI. 53 
 
 press at the corner of the road. As its dense foliage waved 
 solemnly, and its spire-like cone pointed heavenward, it ap- 
 peared to her saddened fancy like a mournful sentinel, stand- 
 ing to guard from sacrilege, and point out for homage, the 
 last resting-place of Bellini. 
 
SI JBalk ill €whm. 
 
 Gentle or rude, 
 No scene of life but has contributed 
 Rluch to remember. Rogers. 
 
 " TirHAT wise book so engages your attention ?" asked 
 ' ' Isabel of lier uncle, who had been for some time in- 
 tent upon a little parchment-bound volume. 
 
 " It is a literary curiosity, given me by our host to amuse 
 myself with till we go out, being nothing more nor less than 
 his album, wherein his merits are set forth in all languages, 
 and in every variety of terms. One praises him as a cicerone 
 in ascending the mountain, one as a caterer, and another as a 
 nurse. There is an essay on the instability of fame, and a 
 warning to beware of the moroseness of declining years. An 
 Italian merchant reiterates again and again, that what he says 
 in the landlord's praise is true, as if he realized the slight 
 tenure of his nation's reputation for integrity ; and an Eng- 
 lishman begs leave to recommend the inn to his countrymen, 
 as if no other individuals in the wide world were worthy of 
 the honor. There are sonnets and aphorisms, quotations and 
 parodies, and I cannot tell whether the volume owes it variety 
 to the quaint mood of the travellers or the peculiar quality 
 of our host's wine." 
 
A WALK IN CATANIA. 55 
 
 " Not less than half the inhabitants of this town," said 
 the count, as they went forth on their proposed walk, '• de- 
 rive their subsistence from the silk manufacture. Half the 
 houses are provided with looms ; and the raw material, pur- 
 chased at fairs of the country people, is woven by the poorer 
 class of citizens, and sold to the fabricant, who, in his turn, 
 
 / 7 3 7 
 
 executes the orders of the merchant." 
 
 " Pride, if not policy," said Frazier, as they passed the im- 
 mense skeleton of a palace, '• would lead an American or an 
 Englishman to finish such an edifice when so far completed." 
 
 " Economy is a more powerful motive here," replied Vit- 
 torio ; '• the noble proprietor, after proceeding to this extent 
 in erecting his dwelling, found that the opposite wing was 
 sufficient for his purposes, and therefore took possession of it, 
 leaving, without a particle of compunction, this unsightly wall 
 to deform the street." 
 
 A number of young men, wearing cocked hats, and another 
 group in flowing gowns of red bombazine, passed by and at- 
 tracted the notice of Isabel. 
 
 " Here you see," said the count, " a good illustration of 
 the efibrts constantly made in this part of the world to divide 
 the ranks of society. That first knot of youths are the sons 
 of noblemen, and members of a college founded by a princely 
 family — the other charity students. The cafe at that corner 
 is frequented only by the nobility — the one at this by the 
 citizens." 
 
 The lofty court-yard of the college, the massive front or 
 commanding position of a convent, or the extensive structures 
 appropriated as hospitals, by turns excited the inquiries of 
 the strangers. They strolled along the small but pleasant 
 marina, and marked the mole, formed by the lava, as it was 
 arrested after invading the sea, and the narrow bed of the 
 river filled with women busily washing. They paused in the 
 
66 ' SICILY. 
 
 principal piazza to observe tlie old statue of the elepliant, 
 bearing a small Egyptian obelisk, and stood for some time in 
 the sacristy of the cathedral, before a rough fresco painting, 
 representing the eruption of 1669. As they were walking up 
 the Strada Etnea, and admiring the fine vista, an old gateway 
 at one end, and the mountain at the other, they perceived a 
 crowd entering a church. Joining the throng, they found 
 themselves suddenly removed from the noise and bustle of a 
 public street into the solemn precincts of a religious temple, 
 and in view of an affecting ceremony. It was the funeral of 
 a nun. Behind a temporary partition, covered with black 
 cloth, and marked with the effigies of death, a band of mu- 
 sicians were performing. At several of the altars priests 
 were celebrating mass. Far above, through gilt gratings, ap- 
 peared the sisterhood, their heads concealed in white folds, 
 and their dark eyes bent through the apertures down upon 
 the crowd. The marble floor was quite covered with kneel- 
 ing figures, some in dark silk hoods and mantles, some with 
 light shawls thrown slightly over their shoulders, and others 
 in bonnets and cloaks. Behind the railing, near one of the 
 altars, extended upon an open bier, and shrouded in black, was 
 seen the corpse. A bunch of artificial flowers nodded over 
 the head, a crucifix lay upon the breast, and fresh rose leaves 
 were scattered over the shroud. Prayer after prayer was 
 said, response after response uttered, and strain after strain of 
 sacred music performed, till the body was borne away for in- 
 terment, and the crowd dispersed. 
 
 When Isabel again joined the passing multitude it was 
 with a mind solemnized by this unexpected scene. Yittorio 
 had met an acquaintance in the church, and learned some- 
 thing of the nun's history. 
 
 " The poor girl," said he, " was not twenty years old on 
 the day of her death. Her father was a wealthy tradesman, 
 
A WALK TO CATANIA. 57 
 
 and was very willing his daughter should take the vows, as 
 the cost of an entertainment consequent upon her profession 
 would not by any means equal the dowry which might reasona- 
 bly be demanded in case of her marriage. The one cost a 
 few hundreds : the other would have required thousands. She 
 was therefore unhesitatingly consigned to the convent ; and 
 every one praised the munificence of her father when they 
 beheld the fire-works and tasted the comfits provided at his 
 expense, on the evening of her initiation. It was but seven 
 months since, and now she is in her grave. To such intensity 
 of selfishness will avarice and superstition sometimes bring a 
 father ; to such a melancholy end will mistaken piety lead a 
 woman." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Isabel, " she was unhappy in her home. 
 Perhaps she pined for a love not there vouchsafed her. Per- 
 haps her young heart was wasted and worn with unavailing 
 yearning ; her best feelings checked by repeated disappoint- 
 ments ; her warm afi"ections chilled and blighted by neglect. 
 Then it was but natural that she should turn from her home 
 and seek such an asylum as she would a living death. I 
 fancied I could read the lines of care as well as the ravages 
 of disease upon her dead face." 
 
 " At all events," said Vittorio, " her course was the re- 
 verse of woman's lot as Heaven ordained it. No more certain 
 is it that the flower was made to waft perfume than that 
 woman's destiny is a ministry of love, a life of the aiFections. 
 And she who voluntarily abandons the world, resigns the part 
 assigned her by the Creator in the elevation of society, in re- 
 fining, soothing, and making happy the human heart. She 
 abandons the sick couch, whose weariness none else can as- 
 suage ; she leaves the world's denizen, whose worldliness she 
 could best have tempered ; she quits the despondent, whom 
 she might have cheered, and the young being whose delicate 
 
 3* 
 
58 SICILY. 
 
 impulses slie is "host fitted to guide to virtue. Her duty, 
 toilsome and self-sacrificing as it often is, is yet noble, and 
 may be made angelic." 
 
 " Did 3^ou remark," inquired Isabel, " that people of every 
 description were continually entering the church during the 
 funeral? Idle young men, roughly-attired country-people, 
 servants on their way from market, and children returning 
 from school — all went in, breathed a prayer for the dead, and 
 then hastened away on their several errands. I could not but 
 think, with all my protestant prejudices, how salutary might 
 sometimes be the effect of such ceremonies, encountered as 
 they are in every state of mind and without warning." 
 
 No brighter hour had smiled upon their pilgrimage than 
 when they reached the beautiful convent of the Benedictines. 
 Passing through the magnificent entrance, and up the lofty 
 staircase, they threaded the spacious corridors lined with the 
 chambers of the fraternity, over the doors of which are full- 
 length pictures of saints, and entered the superb garden of 
 the monastery. Isabel wandered away from hor companions, 
 and paced the neatly-paved walks in silent delight. The deep 
 and compact verdure of the cypress and myrtles, trimmed in 
 the English style into fine artificial forms, refreshed the eye 
 on every side. Roses flaunted their rich tints in the morn- 
 ing breeze ; geraniums perfumed the air ; and the yellow 
 blossoms of the cassia-tree waved in rich contrast with its 
 soft green leaves. Little white monuments, planted at inter- 
 vals among the shrubs, basins of gold-fish, and neatly deco- 
 rated terraces, combined to form a scene more like the sweet 
 pictures of Eastern climes than a present reality. From the 
 extremities of the walks, far round the massive enclosure, 
 was visible, in crude and heavy piles, the lava of 1 669, which 
 stayed its fatal course only at the walls of the convent ; its 
 rough, black aspect relieved by the only vegetation which 
 
A WALK TO CATANIA. 59 
 
 seems congenial to so unkindly a soil — the thick and heavy 
 branches of the prickly pear. Above towered Etna ; around 
 spread the olive hills. Never had Isabel beheld so delightful 
 a garden. Seated upon one of the stone benches, or slowly 
 walking to and fro in the cheerful alleys, she long lingered in 
 the pleasant domain, while her uncle sought, in the museum 
 of the monastery, entertainment more accordant with his 
 taste. One of the old gardeners gathered her a bouquet, and 
 another proffered a large cluster of blood-oranges plucked 
 from an over-laden tree. 
 
 "And this is winter !" she exclaimed to the count. " It 
 is surely no great merit to prefer so lovely a retreat to the 
 rude highway of the world. In reading and communing with 
 Nature, methinks life might pass here in quiet but enviable 
 enjoyment, did I not know that local circumstances, however 
 auspicious, could not satisfy the wants of the soul : that the 
 fairest flowers of earth could not atone for neglected affec- 
 tions, nor the most delightful scenery brighten into beauty 
 the desert of inaction." 
 
 " You speak most truly. Yet of the many monastic re- 
 treats which I have visited, no one seems half so invitinii' as 
 this. There is a peculiar gloom in most of the convents on 
 the continent, and a stern look about the fraternities. Here, 
 on the contrary, you perceive a light and elegant air pervad- 
 ing the wholfe institution. The members of this convent are 
 all nobly born Sicilians ; no others are admitted Their 
 library is excellent, and the situation and arrangement of their, 
 abode, as you see, most charming. But I have ever thought 
 that solitary and barren prospects were more in unison with 
 the spirit and aim of monachism. If it is for human good to 
 be altogether absorbed in self-contemplation, then let not Na- 
 ture and Art be invoked for their treasures. Let there be no 
 symbol of beauty to call off the spirit from meditation, and 
 
60 SICILY. 
 
 no hue of freshness to divert the ever-present thought of 
 death. In this very clinging to the fair emblems of nature 
 and humanity, which we see in the monks, I find an evidence 
 of the fallacy of their theory," 
 
 " What an irrational investment of an income of more 
 than twenty thousand dollars !" said Frazier, who now joined 
 them, " to feed and clothe a body of men, who have ignobly 
 turned aside from the warfiire of life. Were I kins;, or rather 
 president of Sicily, I would, in my first message to congress, 
 recommend that these sleek gentlemen should be punished for 
 such a selfish appropriation of their patrimonies, by being 
 obliged to transfer them to the public treasury for a charity 
 fund." 
 
 " This picture," said Vittorio, as they entered the church, 
 '• represents St. Benedict receiving into the convent two prin- 
 ces, presented to him by their father. What a benignant ex- 
 pression glows in the old man's face ! It is one of the finest 
 pictures in Catania. Most of the other paintings are of sec- 
 ondary merit, and illustrate talcs of the greatest superstition. 
 Do you see those gaily-pictured Turks, and that flying figure 
 drawing up the boy through the ceiling? That child, they 
 say, was stolen from Catania by the infidels, and employed as 
 a house-servant. One day. as he waited on them at dinner, 
 he was observed to weep : ' Why do you grieve V asked his 
 master. ' Because,' said the child, ' to-day is a great festival 
 in my country — the feast of St. Nicholas, and I was thinking 
 of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters — how hap- 
 py they are, and I in a foreign land and a slave !' Upon this 
 the Turks abused him, and ridiculed his faith to such a de- 
 gree, that St. Nicholas, feeling his dignity insulted, came 
 through the wall and bore the child away by the hair of his 
 head, before the eyes of the astonished infidels, as you see 
 there depicted." 
 
A WALK TO CATANIA, Q\ 
 
 Before his auditors could comment upon this character- 
 istic miracle, their attention was more pleasingly arrested. 
 The thrilling notes of the splendid organ, one of the most 
 celebrated in Europe, resounded through the church. Now 
 hreathing in soft, flute-like cadences, now ringing like a fine 
 harp-string, and anon pealing forth the sound of a trumpet, it 
 vibrated upon the ear, and entranced the heart of Isabel. 
 The spirit of devotion awoke as she listened. She silently 
 commended herself to heaven. The music ceased, as they 
 stood within the richly-carved choir, and directly over the 
 tablet behind the altar, beneath which the brotherhood are 
 Duried. Impressed with the morning's experience, they turned 
 to leave the spacious temple ; Frazier lamenting its inutility. 
 Vittorio regretting the distasteful lightness which mars its 
 just effect, and Isabel rejoicing in its holy influences. 
 
)tjrartiBe. 
 
 Where the gray stones and unmolested grass. 
 
 Ages, but not eblivion, feebly brave, 
 
 While strangers ouiy not regardless pass. " 
 
 CiiiLDE Harold. 
 
 TTPON the eastern coast of Sicily, at the distance of about 
 ^ twelve leagues from Catania, a broad neck of land 
 stretches into the Mediterranean, which divides it by a very 
 narrow channel from the shore, thus justifying its claim to 
 the appellation of an island. This spot is covered with the 
 compact buildings of an ancient town, and being surrounded 
 by a double wall, and several lines of neat though low ram- 
 parts, presents to the approaching traveller, a secure and in- 
 teresting appearance. This is the site of one of the five 
 cities, which together constituted the greatest metropolis of 
 the island, and one of the most renowned of the ancient world. 
 The adjacent plain contains numerous, though comparatively 
 insignificant remains of the other sections of that illustrious 
 region. Above and around them the tall grain and scarlet 
 poppy wave in the sea-breeze, and countless fig-trees and low 
 vines spread their broad leaves to the sun, through the whole 
 extent of eighteen miles, once covered with magnificent dwel- 
 lings, temples, and streets, and so often alive with the tumult 
 
SYRACUSE. 63 
 
 of warfare. A long, bright day had passed with our pilgrims 
 as they traced the relics and revived the associations of Syra- 
 cuse ; and at its close they sat by the open window of the 
 hotel, watching the sun's last glow as it fell over the tranquil 
 waters of the great harbor — that beautiful and capacious bay 
 upon which the fleets of Athenians, Carthaginians, and Ro- 
 mans had so often manoeuvred, and which is now so admira- 
 bly adapted to secure to the city at whose base it rolls the 
 palm of commercial prosperity, yet is scarcely stirred, save 
 by the oars of the fisherman, or the shallow keel of a Maltese 
 speronarc. The same stagnation which has calmed its clear 
 blue surface, broods over the old city, and as the strangers 
 gazed from their retired position, in the soothing light of 
 eventide, no sound of human enterprise came up from the 
 narrow streets, and they dwelt upon the past without being 
 conscious of the present. It is one of the true delights of 
 travelling, .that when the day's fatigues are over, we can re- 
 call its experience, denuded of the weariness and untoward 
 circumstances which may have marred its just impressiveness. 
 We can revoke the interesting, and forget the disagreeable. 
 We can combine into pleasant forms the light and shade, the 
 relievo and the back-ground of the actual picture, and trans- 
 form it to fairy-beauty in the magic glass of imagination. It 
 is delightful to converse and reflect upon the associations of 
 a memorable place when the locality is fresh in the memory — 
 when we are standing on the hallowed ground, and breathing 
 the inspiring air of a scene whose history is written among 
 Time's earliest chronicles. AYithin the few preceding hours 
 the little party had traced the boundaries of Acradina, Tyche, 
 Neapolis, and Epipola). They were already within Ortygia. 
 They had ascended the narrow mouth of the Anapus, and 
 seen the ancient papyrus growing on its banks. Frazier had 
 measured the two remaining columns of tlie temples of 
 
64 SICILY. 
 
 Olympic Jove ; Isabel had gathered from the walls of the 
 celebrated prison of the Syracusan tyrant, a bunch of that 
 delicate green weed, called by the Italians the hair of Yenus, 
 which hangs in such graceful festoons from the damp stones 
 of ruins ; and Vittorio had lifted up there his finely modula- 
 ted voice, and called forth that marvellous echo, which so 
 often carried to the ears of the listening tyrant the secret 
 converse of his prisoners. They had traced the wheel-marks 
 in the ancient streets, and stood amid broken tombs, whose 
 very ashes the breath of ages has long since scattered. They 
 had seen the moss-grown seats of the amphitheatre, and the 
 crumbling arches of the aqueducts. They had leaned over 
 the triangular parapet, and gazed down upon a clear, shallow 
 stream, gurgling over stones, and filled with sun-burnt and 
 bare-legged washerwomen, and tried to realize that it was the 
 fountain of Arethusa. They had roamed over the field where 
 the Roman army were so long encamped, and they had looked 
 upon Mount Hybla. However disappointment might have 
 cooled, as it ever will, the zeal of the imaginative, when they 
 compare the actual with the ideal, there was enough in the 
 mere outline of the day's observation to furnish subjects for 
 musing and discussion. 
 
 " We have seen to-day," said Isabel, " the miserable relics 
 of a once splendid G\tj. Let us now speak of those whose 
 names are identified with its history, and the remembrance 
 of whom constitutes, after all, the true romance of this spot. 
 Come, count, I call upon j^ou for the classical retrospect. 
 For notwithstanding my limited acquaintance with such sub- 
 jects, 
 
 " I love the liigli mysterious dreams, 
 
 Born 'mid the olive woods by Grecian streams.' " 
 
 < 
 
 " The prettiest fable," replied he, " that I remember con- 
 nected with Syracuse is that of Arethusa. You know she 
 
SYRACUSE. 65 
 
 was one of Diana's attendant nymphs, and returning from 
 hunting, sat near the Alpheus, and bathed in its waters. The 
 river-god was enamored of her, and pursued her till ready to 
 sink with fatigue ; she implored the aid of her mistress, who 
 changed her into a fountain. The unfortunate lover imme- 
 diately mingled his waters with hers. Diana opened a pas- 
 sage for her under the sea, and she rose near Syracuse. The 
 Alpheus pursued, and appeared near Ortygia, so that it was 
 said that whatever is thrown into the Alpheus at Elis, rises 
 in the Arethusa at Syracuse. There are facts and real per- 
 sonages enough, however, in Syracusian history, to obviate 
 the necessity of resorting to fable. And first, this place is 
 indissolubly associated with the memory of the most famous 
 tyrant of antiquity. It may be that his early banishment 
 from his native city awakened a spirit of revenge and domi- 
 nation which was the germ of that tyrannical spirit he after- 
 wards so licentiously indulged. When by successful policy 
 he succeeded in obtaining a command in the war then waging 
 against the Carthaginians, his first step was to intrigue 
 against his colleagues, and flatter those below him, until, step 
 by step, he succeeded in placing himself in a position where 
 he could establish that military organization which is the 
 legitimate enginery of despotism. Once having assumed 
 power, and triumphed over the confidence of his countrymen, 
 he established the quarries and prison, the remains of which 
 we have visited, and confirmed the authority he had gained 
 by policy through the blighting agency of fear. His fierce 
 wars with the Carthaginians prove his courage and talent as 
 a soldier. Yet we know that he feared death, and was the 
 victim of suspicion to a degree the most weak and cowardly. 
 He would allow no one but his daughter to shave him, had 
 his bed surrounded by a trench and drawbridge, and did not 
 permit even his son or brother to approach him unsearched. 
 
66 SICILY. 
 
 Such is the awful penalty which men pay who violate the 
 sacred rights of humanity. With all his power and wealth, 
 he trembled at a shadow. He felt himself cut off from hu~ 
 man confidence. Perhaps he feared the perpetuity of his 
 title, and anticipated that future ages would know him as the 
 tyrant of Syracuse. It may have been this feeling which 
 awoke literary ambition in his breast, and led him, year after 
 year, to send poems to the Olj^mpic games, and rejoice so 
 greatly when his tragedj^ gained the prize. Perhaps he hoped 
 to vindicate his right to a better fame, and obliterate the 
 memorv of his thousand acts of caDricious and cruel domina- 
 tion ; or when he had tried to its full extent the value of 
 mere physical authority, and proved its worthlessness, per- 
 haps a higher ambition inspired him, and he longed to obtain 
 a conquest over men's minds, and establish a heritage in the 
 immortal kingdom of letters. If such thoughts sprang up in 
 his guilty heart, they came too late, or were too feebly cher- 
 ished. His ambition was a gross passion for dominion. Had 
 it but aimed at a nobler object, how different would be his 
 remembrance ! Had its gratification been sought in the em- 
 pire of the heart, and its end been human good instead of 
 destruction, the traveller, instead of turning with pity from 
 these sad trophies of cruelty, would associate the name of 
 Dionysius with those of Gelon and Hiero — the beneficent 
 rulers of this realm." 
 
 " There are brighter pictures," said Frazier, " in the an- 
 nals of Syracuse. You remember the ruins of a tomb by the 
 road-side, Vv'hich we stopped to regard just before entering 
 the town. It is said to be the sepulchre of Archimedes, who 
 overcame a whole Roman army with his machines, and was 
 the scientific genius of his age — the Franklin of his day. 
 These are the characters I like to contemplate — men who 
 have given a mighty impulse to science, discovered an avail- 
 
SYRACUSE. 67 
 
 able truth, promulgated an universal law, and thus practi- 
 cally proved themselves benefactors, compared with whom 
 the greatest generals are not worthy of a thought, unless, in- 
 deed, they have exhibited the noble feeling which swelled the 
 heart of Marcollus, when he wept on this very spot, at the 
 thought of the suffering his army were about to inflict upon 
 the Syracusans. In that age, such a feeling indicates that 
 he, too, with the opportunity, might have been a philanthro- 
 pist." 
 
 " And do you not remember," said Isabel, '• that this is 
 the scene of that beautiful illustration of human friendship 
 which has been reverently handed down from remote an- 
 tiquity 1 I first read it as a school-girl, with that genuine 
 glow of the heart which the story of true magnanimity awa- 
 kens. And shortly after the impression deepened, by seeing 
 it performed on the stage, in what, to my then untutored 
 judgment, seemed a style of superlative excellence. I can 
 now scarcely believe I am amid the scenes of that noble 
 story. Yet we can well imagine, that on the site of one of 
 the villas we passed rose the mansion of Damon, whence he 
 tore himself from the embraces of his wife to meet an unde- 
 served and ignominious fate, and that in one of the dismal 
 prisons — perhaps in the renowned Ear of Dionysius itself — 
 his trusting friend confidently awaited the return of him 
 whose hostage he had voluntarily become. Over yonder hill, 
 perhaps, as the light of day was fading from the horizon, as 
 at this hour, furiou.sly rushed the steed which bore the father 
 and the patriot to destruction, and over this calm bay, it may 
 be, echoed the shout of the multitude, when, worn, haggard, 
 and covered with dust, the noble victim of tyranny sprang 
 from his horse at the foot of the scaffold, prepared to redeem 
 his pledge. How anxiously did the eyes of the devoted 
 friends watch, on that evening, the sun's decline ! How did 
 
68 SICILY. 
 
 their very breath quiver with his dying rays ! What a world 
 of emotions must have lived in the bosoms of both during 
 those few hours of separation ! What a thrill of gladness 
 must each have known, when the tyrant himself, overcome 
 by so rare an example of generosity, reprieved his victim !" 
 
 " And," said the count, " how little did he think that this 
 one act of virtue would be the brightest spot in his heritage 
 of fame, or that this glorious example of friendship in two 
 citizens would outlive, in the admiration of men, the renown 
 of all his military achievements and deep-laid policy ! How 
 little did he think that the future explorer of the ruins of 
 Syracuse would turn with contempt from the thought of Dio- 
 nysius, at the pinnacle of his power, and delightedly conjure 
 up the picture of Damon upon the fatal platform, hearing him 
 in fancy exclaim — 
 
 ' I am here upon the scaffold ; look at me : 
 I am standing on my throne, as proud a one 
 As yon illumined mountain, where the sun 
 Makes his last stand. Let him look on me too ; 
 He never did behold a spectacle 
 More full of natural glory. 
 All Syracuse starts up upon her hills, 
 And lifts her hundred thousand hands. 
 She shouts — hark how she shouts ! 
 Shout again ! until the mountains echo you, 
 And the great sea joins in that mighty voice. 
 And old Enceladus, the son of earth, 
 Stirs in his mighty caverns.' "* 
 
 When, on the ensuing morning, they came upon the car- 
 riage-road, which extends only to the distance of a few miles 
 from the walls, the quiet and solitude which prevailed so near 
 a well-peopled city excited their observation. Reining their 
 horseSj they paused upon a little eminence, and gave a fare- 
 
 * Shiel's Damon and Pythias. 
 
SYRACUSE. 69 
 
 well gaze to Syracuse. Its capacious and finely protected 
 bay, its thick gray bastions, and the trees which covered the 
 surrounding country, were all defined in the morning light, 
 with that relievo and vividness which every object in the 
 landscape assumes in the peculiarly clear atmosphere of these 
 regions. 
 
 " Few cities of antiquity," observed Frazier, " were more 
 visited by illustrious men than this in the day of its glory. 
 Cicero was long pro-consul here, and often alludes in his 
 writings, with no ordinary interest, to his residence." 
 
 " Yes," said the count, " and a still more illustrious per- 
 sonage no less than thrice dwelt here. He, about whose 
 infant mouth the bees of Hymettus clustered, and of whom 
 Socrates dreamed that a cyguet, rising from an altar dedi- 
 cated to Cupid, took refuge in his bosom, and then soared 
 towards heaven, singing richly as he rose — presages of gifts 
 and graces which after age amply falfilled ; he who taught 
 that our highest emotions are but the beamings which mem- 
 ory imparts of an existence antecedent to our birth ; he who 
 had faith in the beautiful idea of an original, native affinity 
 between souls in which consisted love ; he who bade all men 
 who would be true to themselves reverence the dreams of 
 their youth ; who unenlightened by revelation, felt that the 
 soul was immortal, and with a capacity of thought beyond his 
 age, and a love of the spiritual which the mass of beings 
 around him could not appreciate, combined with a spirit of 
 divine philosophy, the truthful feeling and winning simplicity 
 of childhood. Yes, the favorite pupil of Plato was Dion — a 
 SjTacusan." 
 
 " There was too," said Isabel, " in a later age, another noble 
 being, who, for three days, we are told, abode in Syracuse. 
 One who cast aside the allurements which superior education 
 and social advantages offered, and became the advocate of a 
 
70 SICILY. 
 
 despised religion ; one whose strength of mind and natural 
 gifts of intellect were only equalled by the fervor of his feel- 
 ings and the decision and dignity of his character ; one who 
 was enthusiastic without extravagance and zealous without 
 passion ; whose tones were so deep, calm, and earnest, that 
 the potentate before whom he was arraigned exclaimed that 
 he too was 'almost persuaded to be a Christian;' and then 
 Paul, in what always seemed to me the most thrilling pas- 
 sage of his history, standing in the midst of an inimical as- 
 sembly, and in the presence of regal authority, surrounded 
 by guards, and on trial for his life, raised his calm- counte- 
 nance to the enthroned judge, and lifting those arms which 
 had so often moved in the graceful gestures of scholastic elo- 
 quence, but on which fetters now rankled, in firm, impas- 
 sioned, and clear accents, replied — ' I would to God that not 
 only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both al- 
 most and altogether such as I am, except these bo?ids.^ He 
 walked where Plato had before trod, and taught to the Syra- 
 cusans that new religion which is now the faith of Christen- 
 dom." 
 
 " It is not a little curious," observed Frazier, " to note 
 the results of that ceaseless spirit of change, which, in this 
 age, if never before, is so wizard-like, that wonder itself is 
 well nigh exhausted. As an instance, consider the fact, that 
 the only event which for many years has given a temporary 
 activity to the aspect and energies of Syracuse, was the win- 
 tering of the American fleet there a few years since. It is 
 thought of and reverted to with a frequency and emphasis 
 which indicates how much it was considered." 
 
 " Thus," said the count, " a few of the ships, of a people 
 unknown to the ancient world, lying in that fine harbor, was 
 a memorable circumstance in the annals of a city once con- 
 taining twelve hundred thousand inhabitants — the object of 
 
SYRACUSE. 71 
 
 innumerable wars, the seat of arts, and the mart of wealth ; 
 now reduced to an inconsiderable and impoverished town, 
 sought rather by the curious traveller than the votary of 
 commerce, and its pavements more familiar with the slow 
 tread of the mendicant than the rapid roll of luxurious e(jui- 
 pages ; and beneath this sky, where once rose the hum of 
 martial preparation, the shout of triumph, the breath of song, 
 the music of eloquence, and the joyous laugh of prosperity, 
 may be heard the rustling of the bearded grain in its summer 
 fulness, or the wild moan of the ocean wind, like the requiem 
 breathed by Nature over the desolate remains of human 
 grandeur." 
 
SBurnrtj In ^5alcrni0, 
 
 He was fresh and vigorous with rest ; he was animated with hope ; he was in- 
 cited by desire ; he walked swiftly forward over the valleys, and saw the hilla 
 gradually rising before him. Rasselas. 
 
 THROUGH fields of lava, in which the broad, dense leaves 
 of the Indian fig flourished in rank luxuriance, the trav- 
 ellers, having once more left Catania, proceeded on their 
 way, and were soon on the mountain-road. Nothing could 
 exceed the abject wretchedness of the towns through which 
 they passed, choked up with filth, and seemingly populated 
 by beggars ; and the heart of Isabel was alternately sickened 
 by the insignia of misery, or chilled by the scenes of discom- 
 fort which met her view. To an American, who has been 
 almost wholly unused to the palpable evidences of poverty, it 
 is inconceivably trying to be forced to witness the haggard 
 visage, the impotent liinb, or the miserable covering of the 
 beggar ; to hear his supplicating tones ever sounding in the 
 ear, to see his eager and woe-begone eye regarding him envi- 
 ously through the window of the cafe^ and his attenuated 
 form following him like a shadow at every turn. How de- 
 pressing, then, were such objects to the mind of Isabel, throng- 
 ing as they did every village in the route. Aged men with 
 
JOURNEY TO PALERMO. 73 
 
 white beards and hollow temples, women prematurely palsied, 
 children half naked, and already taught to attune their half- 
 articulating voices to the language of importunity ; and 
 these beings not scattered here and there among the multi- 
 tude, but crowding every square and murmuring beneath 
 every hill-side ; creatures whom civilization, if not humanity, 
 has elsewhere consigned to hospitals ; victims of disease, for 
 whom, in almost every land, asylums are provided ; the 
 maimed, the blind, the paralyzed, the bowed down with age, 
 and the stricken with famine, all urging every feeble nerve, 
 and straining every lingering art, to prolong a wretched ex- 
 istence. Let no one fancy he has witnessed the lowest de- 
 gree of human destiny until he has seen the mendicants of 
 Sicily. 
 
 " What a relief," said Isabel, after leaving behind them 
 one of these villages, " to be again in the open country. 
 What though the mountains are wild and dreary ? The 
 sheep on yonder slope browse contentedly, and the sparrows 
 chirp as they pick the scattered berries. There is nothing 
 that speaks of human suffering, nothing to remind us of wants 
 we can alleviate, and degradation apparently irretrievable." 
 
 " There," observed Frazier, pointing to a finely situated 
 convent, " behold the cause of what you lament. It is a vio- 
 lation of the law of the social universe that any part of the 
 human family should withdraw themselves from their allotted 
 share in the toil and responsibility of life. The very money 
 that supports the priests of Sicily in idleness would more 
 than maintain her paupers ; the hands of the idle priesthood, 
 if judiciously employed, would double, in a short time, the 
 productiveness of the island, and the day that witnessed the 
 annihilation of priestcraft, would give the death-blow to beg- 
 gary." 
 
 During their day's ride the most interesting objects pre- 
 
 4 
 
74 SICILY. 
 
 sented were three old castles, built at the period of the Nor- 
 man conquest, and affording very good specimens of the 
 gloomy architecture of the middle ages. At one of their 
 evening stopping-places, after they had finished the meal, 
 composed chiefly of the viands with which their Catania 
 friends had loaded the carriage, Frazier, whose principle it 
 was to improve every oiDportunity, however unpromising, to 
 acquire information, began, by the help of Vittorio, to enter 
 into conversation with the women of the locanda. These 
 two crones were old and remarkably ugly. As Isabel looked 
 upon their distorted features and rude attire, she could recall 
 no figures resembling them except one or two she had seen 
 in America personate the witches in Macbeth. Her uncle's 
 attempt to extract a grain or two of knowledge about the 
 crops proved vain, as there was but one topic upon which 
 they seemed inclined to enlarge, and this was the miracles of 
 the patron saint of their village. Frazier had not the pa- 
 tience to listen to their stories; but Isabel, to whom every 
 chapter in the volume of human experience was interesting, 
 was pleased to avail herself of their kind interpreter, and 
 hear the hostess's account of St. Vito. 
 
 '' His father was a Turk, excellenza^ and, angry at his 
 conversation, threatened to boil him in oil if he did not re- 
 tract. Though only thirteen years old, the boy maintained 
 his faith, and when put into the cauldron received not the 
 least injury. He became a saint at once, and is ever work- 
 ing miracles. A neighbor of mine had a sick mule. He 
 carried him into the church ; he knelt before St. Vito, and 
 was immediately cured. A woman of the next village was 
 bitten by a mad dog, and came to pray to the saint ; but the 
 people would not admit her, for fear of being infected by the 
 madness : they, however, brought a piece of holy wafer from 
 the saint's shrine to the gate, and gave it to her. No sooner 
 
JOURNEY TO PALERMO. 75 
 
 had she eaten it, than five very small dogs jumped from her 
 mouth and fell dead m the street. 0, signora, he is a beau- 
 tiful saint ; and if you will go to the church to-morrow, and 
 make the sign of the cross before him, you will go to our 
 country, our most happy country — paradise." 
 
 " But," said Isabel, amused with the old woman's ardor, 
 " I think I have some guardian angel, for I came over the 
 wide sea in safety." 
 
 " That," replied the crone, '• was only the grace of God, for 
 in your country you have no saint." 
 
 " Yes, we have." 
 
 "What do you call him?" 
 
 " It is a woman of noble countenance and majestic mien, 
 called Santa Liberta." 
 
 " Ah !" exclaimed both the old women in rapture, grin- 
 ning horribly and dancing with delight ; " then you are a 
 Christian." 
 
 " I hope so," quietly replied Isabel, smiling at their joy. 
 
 " Then we'll bring you a Saint Yito to kiss, and you can 
 have a crucifix and some holy water in your room." 
 
 " There's time enough to-morrow," replied she, beginning 
 to be alarmed at the penances they might inflict. '• It is time 
 to retire." 
 
 " Good night," said the count ; " I commend you to the 
 care of your true patron, St. Isabel." 
 
 And in thus canonizing her name, he had a deeper mean- 
 ing than is often contained in the language of compliment. 
 He referred to that self-dependence, that trust in individual 
 mind and energy, that confidence in the native and personal 
 power of the soul, characteristic of northern nations, and than 
 which there is no greater mystery of character to a southern 
 European. 
 
 When the traveller's route lies through a region of no 
 
76 SICILY. 
 
 peculiar interest or beauty, the prevalence of mountains, 
 while it augments the toil, greatly lessens the en7iui of his 
 journey. The wild, sweeping curves of the hills bring him 
 continually in view of new prospects. Now he ascends a 
 steep elevation, and thence beholds, far and wide, others of 
 various forms and altitude rising above him ; now an abrupt 
 and curiously-shaped cliff meets his eye, and, anon, a fine 
 green valley suddenly breaks upon his sight. Here is a nat- 
 ural amphitheatre, there a rocky precipice ; and this chang- 
 ing scenery is ever arrayed in the light and shade, the mists 
 and clearness, which vary the aspect of the mountains. Our 
 little party realized this, perhaps unconsciously, as they ad- 
 vanced on their course. The motion of a carriage amid the 
 hills induces a meditative mood which is unfavorable to con- 
 versation ; and as the coach wound up and down the dreary 
 ranges, beneath a gloomy sky, they yielded to this influence, 
 and were quite lost in their individual reflections. Some- 
 times for miles the solitude was uninterrupted save by the 
 little carts of the country passing with blocks of sulphur from 
 the mines, or the picturesque appearance of a shepherd lying 
 on some broad hill-side, with his flock scattered before and 
 his dog crouched beside him. 
 
 " May I know your thoughts, Isabel ?" said Frazier, after 
 one of their reveries had continued for an unwonted space. 
 
 " I was thinking," she replied, " how melancholy must be 
 companionless travel here, at such a season, for one inclined 
 to sad fancies. Where nature looks so lonely and man so 
 cheerless, the solitary traveller must have a gay spirit to go 
 singing on his way." 
 
 " And I was thinking," said her uncle, " of the scene at 
 the little church at the last village where we stopped. I 
 strolled in there while the horses were feeding. The damp 
 floor was covered with a wretched-looking set of kneeling 
 
JOURNEY TO PALERMO. 77 
 
 women, and behind the altar three or four fat and well- 
 clad priests were carelessly chanting. I was thinking how 
 powerful is superstition, since a carved railing and a few 
 words of Latin can thus cheat human beings into the surren- 
 der of their highest rights." 
 
 '• And I was thinking," said Vittorio, pointing to several 
 large crows that were cleaving the air above them, "how 
 times change, but principles live. Centuries ago, perhaps on 
 this very spot, the flight of these birds was watched as the 
 intimation of destiny. Now they soar unregarded, save by 
 the jealous husbandman, while the same feeling of our nature 
 which then caused them to be regarded as ominous, is still 
 abused by the professors of a purer faith for like purposes of 
 selfish aggrandizement." 
 
 Nearly all the towns on the way appeared crowning some 
 lofty height, and presenting very interesting objects viewed 
 from a distance. One of the best of these the count pointed 
 out to Isabel, at an early stage of their journey, as the birth- 
 place of Diodorus Siculus, the historian ; and on a mild after- 
 noon he called her attention to the fields they were crossing. 
 
 " These plains," said he, " constitute the country, which, 
 according to the ancient writers, was under the peculiar care 
 of Ceres. Here Agriculture was born ; and even now you 
 Bee these fields are covered with newly-sprouted grain. You 
 remember the classic legend. Proserpine, it seems, like many 
 maidens, had a strange fancy for solitary rambling, and while 
 culling a nosegay here was surprised by Pluto, who came up 
 through a lake, and carried off to the infernal dominions the 
 lovely daughter of Ceres. Her poor mother found her girdle 
 on a fountain, and, disconsolate, sought her everywhere. 
 Arethusa at length informed her of the abiding place of Pros- 
 erpine. She appealed to Jupiter for her release, and the 
 father of the gods promised her return provided she had not 
 
78 SICILY. 
 
 eaten. But unhappily the unfortunate damsel had devoured 
 seven seeds of a pomegranate in the Elysian fields. As usual 
 in the case of clandestine affairs, a compromise was effected. 
 She was to remain one half of the year with Pluto, and the 
 other with her mother. She presided over death, and it was 
 fabled that no one could die if she or her ministers did not 
 sever a lock of hair from the head of the expiring mortal. 
 Glance over this landscape, for it is 
 
 ' That fair field 
 Of Enua, where Proserpine, gathering flowers 
 Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Lis 
 Was gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain 
 To seek her through the world.'* 
 
 In summer the untilled land around us is enamelled with 
 floral beauty. Castro Griovanni, which rises so nobly on the 
 hill to the left, was the ancient Enna, and the favorite abode 
 of Ceres. It is said to stand in the very centre of the island." 
 Many an hour of their weary ride was beguiled by such 
 allusions to ancient times which the various places on the 
 road suggested. Everywhere the tokens of Roger's dominion 
 were visible. The lofty sites of the towns were strikingly in- 
 dicative of the period of their foundation — an era when the 
 secure fortification of cities was indispensably necessary, es- 
 pecially in an island continually exposed to the invasion of 
 the Corsairs. It was not difficult at times to imagine that, 
 in the marked features of the people, starting, as it were, 
 from the shaggy hoods of their brown cloaks, was discernible 
 something of the acuteness and fire of their Greek progeni- 
 tors. Some portions of the highway, composed of argillaceous 
 earth, were passed with difficulty, from the inundation of re- 
 cent rains ; and one evening, when near the end of their 
 journey, it was found necessary to stop for the night at a 
 
 * Paradise Regained. 
 
JOURNEY TO PALERMO. 79 
 
 locanda in the campagna. On entering tlie house, Isabel, 
 fatigued as she was, paused to observe a pictorial eflfect 
 worthy of the pencil of Murillo. Leaning against the doorway 
 of the inner room stood a girl, of apparently fifteen, shading 
 the lamp with her hand in order to obtain a better view of 
 the strangers. Its rays were thus cast up upon a face more 
 bright and expressive than any which she had seen in Sicily. 
 But what chiefly rivetted her gaze were the eyes of the dam- 
 sel — so black, clear, and expressive, as almost to fascinate 
 while they surprised the beholder. 
 
 " Did you remark the face of that young girl ?" inquired 
 Isabel of her uncle when they were seated at supper. 
 
 '• Yes," he replied, " and could not but think what a 
 treasure to a city belle would be her magnificent eyes and 
 snowy teeth." 
 
 " By nature," observed the count, " that maiden is endowed 
 with an intelligent mind : you can read it in those flashing 
 orbs. By nature she is gifted with an amiable disposition ; 
 you can perceive it in her good-humored smile. What an 
 ornament to society might not education make her ! And 
 yet, such is the seeming waywardness of fate, this being, thus 
 capable of exerting an extensive and happy influence, will 
 live and die more like a vegetable than a human creature, 
 her powers cramped by ignorance and overshadowed by su- 
 perstition. The exalted distinction of your country is, that 
 there is a fair field for the gifted ; whether peasants or citi- 
 zens, they can freely exert their prerogatives, for the light 
 of knowledge and the atmosphere of freedom is around them 
 all. This poor girl has no more opportunity to do justice to 
 herself, than the pearl in the ocean depths to display its rich- 
 ness, or the diamond in its rocky bed to exhibit its brilliancy." 
 
 " Yet it is from such truths," replied Isabel, " that many 
 delight to draw the inference of a future and less-bounded 
 
80 SICILY. 
 
 being. The endowments of a human soul, though latent 
 throughout life, become not in consequence extinct. The 
 pearl or the diamond may repose for ages in obscurity, or be 
 dissolved into their pristine elements, but spiritual attributes, 
 if once created, live on forever, and in some epoch of their 
 existence must, I would fain believe, shine forth in the glory 
 ordained them." 
 
 On the following day they crossed the narrow but swollen 
 river which anciently formed the boundary between the 
 Greeks and Carthaginians ; on the next passed the celebra- 
 ted battle-ground of Kugiero, and soon after came in sight 
 of the sea. Isabel's heart expanded at the view of that ele- 
 ment which connected her with her country. It was dearly 
 familiar to her eye. The carriage turned an angle of the 
 road, and directly before them rose the abrupt promontory 
 of Monte Pelegrino, the telegraph rising distinctly from its 
 summit, while on the plain below appeared the city of Paler- 
 mo, environed by olive-groves on the one side, and the Medi- 
 terranean on the other. 
 
 Whether the metropolis which greets the eye of the trav- 
 eller be an inland city, or reared on the borders of the deep, 
 let him mark well its distant aspect. Whether Genoa rise 
 like an amphitheatre of palaces and orange groves to his sea- 
 worn eye, or Florence repose amid its olive-clad hills beneath 
 his entranced gaze ; whether it be the swelling dome of St. 
 Peter's, or the oriental cupola of St. Mark's, which crowns 
 the prospect, let him mark well its distant aspect ; let him 
 patiently trace every line of the landscape ; let him watch 
 the sunlight and shade as they alternately play upon the edi- 
 fices and the verdure, the heavy wall and the light-springing 
 tower ; let him earnestly ponder the scene, even as he dwelt 
 upon the last-fading landscape of his native land ; let him 
 hoard up the associations of the novel spectacle, and feel, 
 
JOURNEY TO PALERMO. 81 
 
 from a distant position, the inspiration of the renowned locali- 
 ty — for when he has once plunged into the narrow thorough- 
 fares, and mingled with the motley crowds within the circle 
 of the fairy scene, how much of the romance it awakens will 
 be rudely dispelled ! how many of its bright suggestions will 
 be coldly overshadowed ! But Isabel gazed upon Palermo 
 not only with the curiosity of a traveller and the interest of 
 an enthusiast ; she looked long and earnestly upon its dense 
 buildings and numerous domes, as if she would ask the fair 
 
 capital if within its wide walls was the father she sought. 
 
 4# 
 
€)}t CnpitnL 
 
 To see the wonders of the world abroad. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 THE Cassaro of Palermo presents the usual scene of min- 
 gled pomp and poverty observable in the main street of 
 every European city. To one whose eye has been familiar 
 with the red bricks and slated roofs, the green blinds and 
 cheerful portals of the American dwellings, such thorough- 
 fares are rife with novelty. He has been accustomed to the 
 click of the mason's trowel, and the hasty greetings of hur- 
 rying pedestrians, eager to reach the scene of traffic or the 
 sanctuary of home. All around him has worn an aspect of 
 freshness ; everything has been symbolical of newness and 
 growth. How different the view now presented ! The high 
 stone walls of the ediiSces throw a gloomy shade over the 
 broad flags. There is the gay uniform of the soldier and the 
 dark robe of the priest. At his side the mendicant urges his 
 petition. Near yonder shrine a kneeling peasant prays. In 
 the centre of the street a richly-dressed cavalier displays His 
 exquisite horsemanship. Against the adjacent palace wall a 
 poorly-clad old man urges his donkey, whose slender propor- 
 tions are almost hidden beneath a towering load of vegetables. 
 
THE CAPITAL. 83 
 
 In the cafe opposite, groups are composedly discussing the 
 merits of the new 'prima donna ; and near the door a knot 
 of porters are vociferously disputing about the division of a 
 penny. This dazzling equipage is the carriage of the arch- 
 bishop ; that stripling, with sheepskin hose, is driving his 
 goats into a yard to milk them, for the table of some English 
 resident who can afford the luxury. These half-naked boys 
 are "gambling away, on the sunny curb-stone, the few grains 
 which some passer-by has thrown them in charity : the other 
 cluster of untidy women are ridding each other's heads of 
 vermin — an incessant and consj^icuous employment. From 
 the overhanging, balconies flaunts the wet lirien hung out to 
 dry, and the venders, with baskets of fish, pulse, and herbs, 
 dexterously wend their way through the vehicles and loun- 
 gers, and announce their commodities above the hum and 
 shouts of the crowd. A file of soldiers, awkwardly shrouded 
 in loose gray coats, sternly conduct a band of miserable 
 prisoners chained together : and a Capuchin friar, with bare 
 head, long beard, and enormous sack, morosely glides by, in 
 search of alms for the expectant poor. 
 
 Through this heterogeneous assemblage, as Frazier's car- 
 riage was one day passing, Yittorio asked them to observe a 
 building of unusual extent. 
 
 " This is one of the two remaining establishments," said 
 he, " formerly possessed in Palermo by that once wealthy and 
 powerful community — the Jesuits. The broad airy court of 
 the college is surrounded by spacious corridors, conducting to 
 chambers where instruction is gratuitouslj^ given in the various 
 branches of literature and. science. This society is one of the 
 few truly useful fraternities of priests existing in Sicily, 
 They are the ministers of educa,tion, and engage in their mis-. 
 sion with a zeal and an interest worthy of the cause," 
 
 " It is ren\ark?>,ble," ssiid Frazier, " how that intriguing 
 
84 SICILY. 
 
 association, wliose influence was once so widely felt, has 
 dwindled into insignificance. Who would imagine, that in 
 those quiet-looking young men promenading in the yard, we 
 see members of that sect whom we read of as the secret 
 devotees of ambition in the courts of princes." 
 
 " An incident occurred at their institution not long since," 
 said Vittorio, " which would indicate that they are still not 
 deficient in cunning. One of their number, who acted as 
 treasurer, embezzled a sum of money, and gave it as a dowry 
 to his sister on her marriage. As he had entered the society 
 quite poor, when the rumor of this generous donation reached 
 the ears of the brethren, they held a council, and having no 
 doubt of the fraud, ordered him into their presence, with the 
 determination to banish him from the college. Upon being 
 asked if he had presented his sister with the specified sum, 
 he replied affirmatively, and when questioned as to the source 
 of this sudden wealth, answered, quite unabashed, that he had 
 taken it from the common fund. ' For,' he added, ' is not our 
 ■creed that we are all bound together by the tie of Christian 
 fellowship, and are obligated, in weal and woe, to aiford mu- 
 tual aid 1 I took the gold, and appropriated it as a dowry 
 for our sister in the faith, in accordance with those principles 
 of charity and love which we profess.' The sincerity of the 
 delinquent's manner, with the force of his arguments, sealed 
 the lips of the council, and he was acquitted." 
 
 At no great distance are Quartro Gantoni, where the two 
 principal streets of the metropolis intersect each other at right 
 angles, and whence one can gaze through the long and crowded 
 vistas to the four gates. Upon the huge dark corners of the 
 adjacent palaces are hung the theatre advertisements, and be- 
 low several fountains fall into old marble basins. No one 
 can pause at this spot without feeling that he is in the very 
 centre of a populous city. Beyond, and separated from the 
 
THE CAPITAL. 85 
 
 street by a spacious square, is the cathedral. Its interior is 
 wanting in effect from the lightness which distinguishes and 
 deforms the churches of the island. After regarding the clus- 
 ter of sarcophagi which contains the ashes of the Sicilian 
 sovereigns, the travellers passed on, and entered a chaste 
 little chapel on the right of the main altar. 
 
 " These basso-relievos," said the count, " are the work of 
 Gaggini. The finest represents the angel of the Lord driving 
 away \Yar, Famine, and Pestilence — the enemies of manliind 
 — from Palermo, at the intercession of St. Rosalia, whom 
 you see kneeling at the feet of Jesus, and smiling at the suc- 
 cess of her petition. That circular portrait over the altar is 
 a representation of the fair saint, and beneath are preserved, 
 in a box of silver, studded with jewels, her mortal remains. 
 The tradition is, that ages ago, Rosalia, the daughter of a 
 wealthy and noble house, turned aside from the allurements 
 of pleasure and youth, and retired to the bleak summit of 
 Mount Pelegrino, to give her life to prayer. Centuries of 
 change rolled away, and the story of the lovely anchorite was 
 lost in obscurity ; when the plague visited Palermo. At the 
 very height of its ravages, a poor man of the city dreamed 
 that an angel appeared to him in the form of St. Rosalia, di- 
 recting him to tell the archbishop to seek on the mountain, 
 beneath her ancient retreat, for her bones, and bear them in 
 solemn procession through the streets, when he was assured 
 the pestilence would instantly cease. This was done amid 
 much pomp and solemnity, and the promised miracle wrought. 
 The senate immediately declared St. Rosalia the protectress 
 of Palermo, and ever since she has been worshipped as their 
 patron saint. For five days in July a feast is held in celebra- 
 tion of this event, exceeding in magnificence every similar 
 festival. Fireworks, social gayety, triumphal processions, illu- 
 minationSj and music, are the uninterrupted announcements 
 
86 SICILY. 
 
 of these greatest of Palermitan holidays ; and the flower- 
 decked car of the saint, drawn by fifty oxen covered with 
 garlands, moves gayly along the thronged Toledo." 
 
 At a short distance from the cathedral is the royal palace, 
 where an ancient chapel, and one of the finest observatories 
 in Europe, interested the strangers. Returning, Yittorio 
 bade them note the building now devoted to the tribunals in 
 the Piazza Marina. It is a Saracenic structure, formerly 
 the seat of the inquisition, and bears interesting evidences of 
 the date of its erection. The best monument, however, of 
 this period of Sicilian history, an epoch involved in great ob- 
 scurity, is a large fabric at Olivuza, near the city, called the 
 ziza, and supposed to have been an emir's residence. 
 
 The contrasts, however, between the Old and New World 
 are not confined to the results of Art. Around the congre- 
 gated dwellings of both hemispheres is spread the varied 
 scenery of Nature ; and the sojourner, if he be not an invete- 
 rate worldling, has been wont to repair thither for solace and 
 refreshment. Yet how different are the emblems of her be- 
 nignant presence from those to which he has been accustomed ! 
 At home, he gazed upon the flowing stream, whose greatest 
 charm is its bright hue and crystal clearness ; in this distant 
 region he roams beside a turbid river, only attractive from 
 the events of which it has been the scene, or the classic 
 legend which arrays it in fictitious glory. At home, his eye 
 rested upon cottages of wood, with orchards beside them, 
 vegetable gardens in the rear, and hard-by the long well-pole 
 poised in the air ; now he beholds the peasant's cottage of 
 stone, and the olive, aloe, Indian fig, or grape-vine, constitute 
 the verdure around it. There the little belfry of the village 
 school rose conspicuous ; here the open shrine of some local 
 saint. There the forest outspread in wild majesty ; here the 
 cam'pagna stretches in peaceful undulations. There the 
 
THE CAPITAL. 87 
 
 chirp of the cricket announced the close of day ; here the 
 tinkling bell of the returning mules, and Ave Maria stealing 
 on the breeze usher in the evening. There many an unin- 
 vaded haunt repays the wanderer with romantic dreams ; 
 here the spell of some ruined temple entrances his fancy with 
 hours of retrospective musing. Still Nature's votary feels 
 that the same gentle companionship is with him, and recog- 
 nizes the invisible spirit of the universe endeared by commu- 
 nion in another land : for there is a well-known voice with 
 which she greets her children in every clime. 
 
 One of the most pleasing characteristics of the Sicilian 
 capital is the beauty of its environs. It is a curious fact, 
 that one of the most conspicuous of the mountains which en- 
 viron the city is strikingly similar to Vesuvius ; while Mount 
 Pelegrino, from one point of view, presents the same form and 
 general aspect as the rock of Gibraltar. Many happy hours, 
 when the state of elements was auspicious, were passed by 
 Frazier, his niece, and their friend, in rides and walks amid 
 the quiet and fertile country about Palermo. Sometimes on 
 horseback they ascended to Monreale, a picturesque town 
 about four miles from the city, where the Norman kings are 
 buried. The old church here situated was built by William 
 I., and is lined with mosaics, which serve admirably to awaken 
 the associations of that primitive era after the establishment 
 of Christianity, when the zeal of her advocates was expended 
 upon gorgeous temples and elaborate ornaments. Still higher, 
 a rich convent of Benedictines affords another fine point of 
 view. When the visitor had satisfied his curiosity in noting 
 the marble and alabaster, the literary rareties and antique 
 relics which enrich this establishment, tenanted, like the one 
 at Catania, exclusively by noblemen ; when his gaze is weary 
 with regarding the paintings of Monrealese — the best of 
 Sicilian artists — which decorate its walls : he can survey the 
 
88 SICILY. 
 
 broad and verdant plain, the distant city, and its sea-bright 
 boundary, spread out in rich contrast below. A still more 
 favorite observatory, nearer the metropolis, is the site of an 
 old asylum of the followers of St. Francis — the monastery of 
 Maria di Gesu, on the side of the opposite mountain. From 
 the path constructed along the cliff, one can look forth upon 
 this picture, pausing at will to mark its varying features as 
 he ascends the umbrageous hill-side. Indeed the public and 
 private edifices which command views of this unrivalled 
 scene, are numerous enough to satisfy the taste of the most 
 fastidious admirer of the picturesque ; and no more delight- 
 ful excursion can be imagined than the circuit of the entire 
 plain on a fine day. It is adorned by the villas of many noble 
 families, which are surrounded with enclosures well stocked 
 with every description of tree, shrub, and flower. The beau- 
 tiful effect of these gardens is enhanced by statues, whose 
 white hue is relieved by the evergreen around their pedestals, 
 and many ingenious devices to amuse and surprise the visitor. 
 One of these domains, erected by the late king, is arranged 
 in the Chinese style. 
 
 How peace-inspiring seemed that valley to the eye of 
 Isabel, reposing with its grain fields and olive orchards, many 
 of them planted by the Saracens, its orange clusters and cy- 
 presses, its villas and almond-trees, with the mountains en- 
 circling, like majestic sentinels, its fertile precincts, the 
 domes and roofs of Palermo rising time-hallowed from amid 
 its green beauty, and beyond all, the wide and sparkling sea ! 
 In early spring, all there is perfume and song, and not even 
 when the snow lies in heavy masses upon the hill-tops, does 
 it cease to cheer the sight with its evergreen garniture. 
 
 " Let us pause," said Yittorio, one day, when they had 
 arrived at a solitary and elevated part of the rocky environ- 
 ment. They stood still and looked forth upon the vale. 
 
THE CAPITAL. 39 
 
 " The first impression, I think," continued he, " is that of 
 abundance. We do not merely see, we feel, as it were, the 
 luxuriance of the earth. A new sense of nature's productive- 
 ness is borne to the mind, as it contemplates such verdure 
 and plenty. But while we gaze, another and higher feeling 
 possesses us. The tranquillity of the landscape soothes every 
 common passion into quietness, and lures all care-born rest- 
 lessness to sleep. Something of the calm happiness of pri- 
 meval existence seems to breathe from so Eden-like a 
 prospect ; and from the lulled waters of the spirit, as the 
 ancients fabled of the birth of beauty, emerges the brightest 
 creation of thought, the fairest offspring of emotion ; — a sen- 
 timent of confidence in our origin and destiny, a speechless 
 gratitude, an undefined hope, a self-content, alike inexplicable 
 and blessed. Is it that we imbibe the lano-uage of the uni- 
 verse, or are exhilarated by her music 1 Is it that we momen- 
 tarily lose the weight of life's burden, or forget in so cheering 
 a presence, that the earth is not a garden ?" 
 
 " It is, perhaps," replied Isabel, " that we realize anew the 
 goodness of the Creator, and thus renew our faith in his pa- 
 ternity. The world often seconds the chill and dark creed 
 of the skeptic, while Nature ever encourages the hopes of the 
 heart. We see the beauty lavished upon the physical uni- 
 verse, and comes there not thence an assurance that if the 
 domain of matter is thus cared for and enriched, the quench- 
 less, living spirit is destined to renewal, progression, and hap- 
 piness ?" 
 
 From the upper end of the Marina, if the equestrian in- 
 clines to the right, he comes out upon a broad, level space, 
 called the plain of Erasmus. A group of bare-legged fisher- 
 men, with their nets spread out for repair upon the green- 
 sward, two or three cord-weavers, or a knot of the country 
 guards lounging in the noon-tide sun, appeared scattered over 
 
90 SICILY. 
 
 this field ; after crossing which, one passes a pretty little 
 churchj where the victims of the law are buried, and soon 
 arrives at the old Saracenic bridge that spans the Oreto. 
 This river, now shrunk to the dimensions of a mere brook, 
 constituted the scene of a noted galley combat which is said 
 to have occurred near Monreale. Its wide bed and high 
 embankments are still easily traced. The aspect of this 
 vicinity is rendered picturesque by masses of broken wall, 
 half-covered with vegetation, and several tall, square water 
 pillars wreathed with thick hanging weeds. 
 
 It was a mild and autumn-like day, and already long past 
 noon, when the travellers, returning from a sequestered road, 
 along which their horses had been slowly pacing for a consid- 
 erable time, found themselves again in this somewhat familiar 
 spot. There was a freshness as well as solemnity in the ap- 
 pearance of a cypress grove which rose before them ; and 
 they readily turned into the almost deserted way, left their 
 steeds at the gate, and entered the Campo Santo. As they 
 did so, two men, bearing a black sedan-chair — the bier of the 
 lower orders — appeared, proceeding slowly up the grassy 
 pathway. No other moving object disturbed the profound 
 repose of the burial-place, save the swaying tops of the gloomy 
 trees, and the nodding of some spire of herbage which had 
 shot up higher than its fellows. Rows of square flag-stones 
 intersected the ground at equal distances, denoting the huge 
 pits into which the naked corpses are promiscuously thrown, 
 with as little ceremony, and less feeling, perhaps, than the 
 fish-packers of the neighboring coast manifest in arranging 
 their prey. A low, rude cross, placed near one of the reser- 
 voirs, indicated that it was unsealed for the day's interments, 
 if so rude a disposition of the dead merits the name. The 
 strangers involuntarily paused. They had been inhaling the 
 balmy and living breath of nature ; the hum of a populous 
 
THE CAPITAL. 91 
 
 city had scarcely died away upon their ears ; their conversa- 
 tion had been lively and hopeful, for few can resist the exhil- 
 arating influence of a ride on horseback beneath a lovely sky, 
 and in sight of evergreen foliage and blue-waving hills ; and 
 now they were in the silent precincts of a grave-yard, sur- 
 rounded by the emblems of death. An old and miserably 
 clad friar emerged from the building which bounds the oppo- 
 site side of the cemetery, and approaching the group, offered 
 to display the wonders of the establishment, with as much 
 complacency as the cicerone of a gallery of art or continental 
 museum would have manifested. To one who travels not so 
 much to acquire miscellaneous information as to realize truth ; 
 not with a view to court novelty, but to awaken thought ; not 
 merely to be amused, but enjoy associations and feast imagi- 
 nation ; to one, in a word, who seeks in foreign scenes eon- 
 genial mental excitement, there is nothing more vexatious 
 than the officiousness, intrusion, and affected jargon of those 
 who act as guides and showmen about the interesting locali- 
 ties of Europe. Isabel shuddered as she beheld this veteran 
 dweller amons; the dead, and marked the indifference to 
 scenes of mortality which familiarity had induced, Frazier 
 followed the monk, -while Isabel and the count walked to and 
 fro in an area of the sunny enclosure. 
 
 " This," said he, '• is the burial-place of the poorer classes. 
 Their ideas of doing honor to the dead are quite peculiar. 
 Those who have the means engage the old friar and his assis- 
 tants to preserve the embalmed bodies or skeletons of their 
 friends, which are placed in hideous array, some of them 
 dressed out in the gayest dresses, in the lower chambers of 
 that edifice. The poor relatives of the deceased yearly re- 
 new the vesture and ornaments of the withered bodies, deem- 
 ing this a testimony of their remembrance. What a dismal 
 manner of manifesting the sentiment ! Yet how affecting ia 
 
92 SICILY. 
 
 this clinging to the mere casket of life ! How does it pro- 
 claim the earnestness with which the most unenlightened re- 
 pel the thought of annihilation ! But does not such attach- 
 ment to the mortal remains evince how dimly the idea of 
 immortality has dawned upon the minds of these ignorant 
 people? Is it not another proof of the unspiritual tendency 
 of their religion, as popularly believed? Intelligent men 
 often ridicule what they call the visionary tenets of some of 
 the more refined sects — but what can obviate the appalling 
 impression that death and decay awaken, but a faith, not 
 merely general, but elaborately constructed from our inmost 
 experience, and vivified by revelation — a faith that recognizes 
 an existence perfectly independent of physical life — a faith 
 that habitually regards the tides of thought and love as al- 
 ready merged in the ocean of eternity, though now connected 
 by a narrow and ever evaporating stream with the river of 
 Time?" 
 
 " Still," said Isabel, " it is not every one who can best 
 keep alive the glorious truth of an after-existence, by thus 
 maintaining a sense of the distinctness of our two lives. 
 With many they are too much interwoven ; and with all the 
 inner and the outer world, more or less commingle. There- 
 fore it is, I think, that the cemetery should be hallowed by 
 nature, and rendered eloquent by art. It seems to me that 
 many of the customs of Europe, in regard to the dead, evi- 
 dence anything but Christian civilization, and I turn with 
 pleasure and gratitude from this horrid receptacle, to the 
 picture my memory affords of the beautiful cemetery at New 
 Haven, and the quiet and soothing precinct of Mount Au- 
 burn, where naught meets the eye but chaste marble memo- 
 rials, the refreshing hue of the greenwood, and the flowers 
 which enamel the graves." 
 
 " That is happy," said the count. " Such scenes should 
 
THE CAPITAL. 93 
 
 not remind us of the earthly remains, but of the enfranchised 
 spirit. Who would linger over the clay, when the friend it 
 impersonated has vanished ? An accustomed walk or a fa- 
 vorite book is more emblematical of the departed than his 
 senseless frame ; for the first ministered to his deathless self 
 — with the last his connection has utterly ceased. To pre- 
 serve and cherish so wretched a memorial, so earth-born and 
 material a symbol, is as soulless as for the prisoner to fix his 
 eye upon the dim walls of his dungeon, when a star beams 
 radiantly through his cold grate, as if to call his gaze heaven- 
 ward " 
 
€)}t Jlnnitiate. 
 
 But when it happens that of two euro evils 
 
 One must be taken, where the heart not wholly 
 
 Brings itself back from out the strife of duties, 
 
 Then 'tis a blessing to have no election. Wallknstein. 
 
 THE prevalence of monastic institutions is one of the most 
 striking features of Sicily. Originated during the do- 
 minion of the Spaniards, like ill weeds thej have taken deep 
 root, and quite overrun the verdant island. In the country 
 they occupy the most desirable sites, and in almost every 
 street of the capital the high gratings of the nunneries appear 
 protruding from their lofty walls. Thousands of the fairest 
 daughters of the land are immured within these spacious asy- 
 / lums. Among such a multitude, some doubtless are devoted 
 I to that religious meditation which is the professed object of 
 their seclusion ; but the majority manifest as lively an inter- 
 est in the world they have renounced as the busiest of its 
 denizens. By means of their friends they are constantly in- 
 formed of the events of the day, and manage to maintain a 
 surprising acquaintance with the intrigues and doings of the 
 metropolis. Indeed, a half-hour's chat with one of these fair 
 recluses, is said to subserve the purposes of the gossip better 
 than a gazette, of which there is quite a dearth. And in re- 
 
THE NOVITIATE. 95 
 
 turn for the sweet scandal the wicked world provides them, 
 they are constantly distributing presents of comfits. By this 
 demi-intercourse with their fellow-beings, and in attending to 
 their share of the duty and ceremonial of the house, their 
 hours glide by. and every year adds to their number. Isabel 
 availed herself of an occasion which offered to witness the 
 rite by which a novitiate was entered upon. The daughter 
 of a merchant with whom Frazier was acquainted being about 
 to perform these vows, he invited the strangers to attend the 
 function. 
 
 It was the last day of the month. As the carriage rolled 
 over the flat pavements through the crowded Toledo, lights 
 gleaming from the cafes and shops, fell on groups of mechan- 
 ics toiling by the wide thresholds, shelves of confectionery 
 thrust forth to tempt the passengers, and now and then re- 
 vealed a set of grotesquely clad buffoons — the light-hearted 
 celebrators of the carnival, surrounded by a laughing mob. 
 Now they passed an elegant equipage, with its complement 
 of dashing footmen ; and now the white robes of a Dominican 
 friar fluttered by. One moment Isabel admired the dexter- 
 ity of the coachmen as they drove furiously on, the wheels 
 of their vehicles almost in contact ; another gazed upon a 
 fountain, murmuring amid its old sculptured ornaments and 
 weed-grown inscriptions ; and the next instant they turned 
 into another street — dark and silent but for the clear echo 
 of their horses' feet as they struck the flag-stones. Riding 
 rapidly through the streets of an European city produces in 
 the stranger's mind a novel excitement. One thought pre- 
 dominated in the mind of Isabel. She remembered that the 
 insignia of life, of active and cheerful existence, whose inspi- 
 ration she then felt, was about to be abandoned by her whose 
 vows she was soon to hear. She endeavored to imagine her 
 own feelings if such were her lot. 
 
96 SICILY. 
 
 " It is not love of what is called the world" — (thus she 
 mused) — " that would make such an hour dismal to me. I 
 am not indissolublj wedded to the pursuit of pleasure. Long 
 since I have realized the vanity of the petty triumphs sought 
 in artificial society. I should mourn to quit life because it 
 is the arena of experience, the sphere of duty, the lot of my 
 race. I would not, if I could, escape the common destiny of 
 a human being. I would share in the toil, anxiety, and suf- 
 fering — I would take part in the higher enjoyments — I would 
 have my inheritance in the kingdom of thought and affection, 
 because it is human. A mightier will than mine placed me 
 here ; a holier agency than that of accident creates the cir- 
 cumstances of life. Let the afflictions, the temptations, the 
 cares of being be endured ; let me be free to commune with 
 nature and society ; let me courageously fulfil my destiny ; 
 and for the truth that shall guide and protect me, let me trust 
 to the paternity of Grod." 
 
 The strain of her meditations was abruptly broken by 
 their arrival at the convent. They entered the 2^arlatoriOj 
 or conversation-room. It was already half filled with com- 
 pany, who, to judge by their gay dresses, and the occasional 
 laughter and lively discourse with which they were beguiling 
 the time, one would suppose had assembled for some purpose 
 of glad festivit}^ At the head of the room, surrounded by 
 the ladies of her family, and the companions of her youth, 
 sat the maiden on whose account they had assembled. She 
 was tall, and of that form which, at a glance, we are apt to 
 denominate genteel. A dress of white satin, richly decorated 
 with lace, showed to the best advantage her fine, intelligent 
 face, dark eyes shaded with Iqng black lashes, and head of 
 hair, amid the ebon masses of which clusters of diamonds 
 glittered beneath a knot of snow-white ostrich feathers that 
 nodded above, and gave to the tout ensemble a queen-liko 
 
THE NOVITIATE. 97 
 
 aspect. This impression was enhanced by the air and man- 
 ner of the lady. Occasionally turning to a party of nuns who 
 clustered about the open door which formed the limits of 
 their asylum, she replied to their words of encouragement 
 with an affable dignity. Sometimes addressing her mother, 
 who sat beside her, she seemed to perform the same kind 
 office of consolation to her. At the entrance of one of the 
 friends whose society had enlivened, with girlish playfulness, 
 many an hour of her young life, she rose, and gracefully, 
 often even joyously, saluted her, as if she were receiving the 
 gratulations of a bride. Sometimes she caressed her little 
 brother, a pretty boy of five or six, apparently delighted at 
 the brilliant costume of his lovely sister : at others, although 
 but momentarily, she would sit silently looking around her, 
 as if called for the first time to play the part of an enter- 
 tainer, and as yet unskilled in disguising the weariness which 
 too often renders that character one of the most onerous in 
 the whole range of social requisitions. A blithe tone, pleas- 
 ant, talkative mood, and happy smile, distinguished her from 
 the other young ladies upon whose faces seriousness would 
 oftener rest, and glances of thoughtful regret not unfrequent- 
 ly be cast towards their smiling friend. Isabel watched the 
 scene, and recalled the beautiful simile which compares an 
 unconscious sufferer to the sacrificial victim that wears proud- 
 ly and playfully nibbles the flowery garlands, that to all else 
 are emblems of its approaching fate. Ices and sweetmeats 
 were distributed. The buzz of conversation rose and fell. 
 There were pleasant jests and calm discussions among the 
 party, and as little apparent commiseration as the ancient 
 assemblies at the gladiatorial combats were wont to show for 
 the beings whose death was to be barbarously consummated 
 for their amusement. Isabel was separated from her friends, 
 and found herself near some acquaintances with whom she 
 
 5 
 
98 SICILY. 
 
 had little sympathy ; and after the ordinary greetings wero 
 interchanged, was at liberty to entertain herself with her own 
 thoughts. These were soon entirely engrossed in attempting 
 to conjecture the motives and present feelings of the novi- 
 tiate. She was speeeily convinced that there was a deep 
 sentiment veiled by the blitheness of her manner ; an eye and 
 a contour so speakingly intelligent, she was convinced, apper- 
 tained to a mind that' could pierce the shadows of gross su- 
 perstition, and a heart with a capacity of feeling which had, 
 or would ere long, occasion its possessor intense suffering. 
 Thus her sympathy was earnestly excited ; nor could she 
 relieve the longing she felt to interfere with the proposed 
 vows, till she was assured that after a year's trial the novice 
 would be at liberty to leave the convent. This consideration, 
 however, would not have greatly solaced Isabel had she been 
 aware of the means assiduously used to rivet the chain of 
 motives which first allure the voun"^ to make trial of conven- 
 tual life. From i\\Q pcirlatorio the company adjourned to 
 the church, which was brilliantly lighted for the ceremony. 
 Isabel, as a stranger, was provided with a place near the 
 grate, about which a dense crowd soon collected. The priest 
 at the main altar commenced a mass. An orchestra, stationed 
 in a high gallery, began a sacred strain, and turning to the 
 chapel she saw a procession of the sisterhood approaching, 
 bearing lighted tapers, and in the midst walked the novice. 
 They encircled a little platform, placed just within the lattice, 
 on which sat the abbess and her assistants, and at the feet 
 of the former kneeled the devoted maiden. She was still 
 apparelled in her ball-room attire, but a crown of flowers was 
 substituted for the jewels and plumes, and in her right hand 
 she bore a waud of palm. At Isabel's side, in a high chair, 
 covered with crimson velvet, sat the officiating priest. The 
 aged mother of the institution threw back her silken cowl, 
 
THE NOVITIATE. 99 
 
 drew forth and assumed her tortoise-shell spectacles, and 
 opened the ritual. Isabel noted the picture as the soft ra- 
 diance of the numerous lights fell on the upturned face of the 
 novice and the timc-^-ithered lineaments of the abbess. In 
 the one she read youth and innocence — the harmony of a con- 
 fiding and undlmmed nature ; in the other, the traces of ex- 
 perience, the expression of command, the quiet and fixed 
 features of that epoch in life when Hope's visions have melted 
 away, and the listless content of subdued feeling, like the 
 calm surface of a summer sea, reflects what is around, but 
 stirs not in the exhausted breeze of fresh emotion. She ob- 
 served the bright eye of the maiden glance kindly at the 
 younger nuns ; and, as the monotonous recitative of the priest 
 succeeded that of the women, on her fresh lips stole such a 
 smile, as she caught the eye of the old lady, as would have 
 provoked a responsive look from one more sensible to such 
 an appeal or less disciplined in self-control. A lock of the 
 dark hair was severed, and the silken curtain drawn. In a 
 few moments it was again thrown back, and, arrayed in the 
 black robe and white cape of a nun, appeared the inducted 
 novice. The dress was smgularly becoming — more so than 
 that it had displaced. Again she kneeled, and the preacher 
 commenced his exhortation. Fervently did he congratulate 
 the fair girl on her choice. Eloquently did he picture the 
 evils she had escaped and the blessings she had secured. 
 There was sincerity in his tones : but Isabel remembered the 
 silver sweetness of voice which the novice's responses had 
 betrayed, and the spell of the speaker's was lost. She turned 
 to the mother, and saw the tears roll down upon the lace 
 'kerchief which covered the breast whereon this lovely crea- 
 ture had so often reposed. The little brother of the novitiate, 
 whether offended by her new array, or touched with the so- 
 lemnity of the scene, became very restless, and after many 
 
100 SICILY. 
 
 vain attempts to attract his mother's attention, began to cry 
 piteouslj, as if in remonstrance to the vows with which they 
 were severing from him, perhaps forever, an indulgent and 
 fond sister. His wailing was not suffered to interrupt the 
 orator, who continued his discourse. The child was hurried 
 from the crowd. Isabel observed, that throughout the cere- 
 mony the novice ventured not a glance towards her kindred 
 and friends gathered about the tressil partition ; but she saw 
 her breast heave beneath the folds of her sacred habit, and 
 fancied that not one of her mother's sighs escaped her ear. 
 When the address was brought to a close, the nuns pressed 
 forward and embraced the new member of their societ}^ The 
 company in the church slowly withdrew. Isabel followed the 
 ladies to the 7:'«r/«?or/ci, and entered just as the mother and 
 daughter were embracing. A throng of congratulating friends 
 encircled the novitiate. Isabel wished, for her sake, that all 
 was over. But soon the maiden eagerly inquired for her 
 father. He was in a distant corner of the apartment. When 
 he approached, his beautiful daughter, clad, as it seemed to 
 the strangers, in the habiliments of a living grave, kissed him 
 affectionately. Isabel saw him whisper to the abbess, and 
 doubted not it was a request to treat his child kindly. She 
 thought of her own parent, and asked herself whether he 
 could thus leave her to linger out a sad existence in the 
 cloister. The idea chilled her very soul ; and, seizing the 
 proffered arm of her uncle, they hurried from the place. 
 
 The Marina of Palermo is one of the most admirable 
 promenades in Europe. By many continental travellers it is 
 deemed unsurpassed. The broad, blue expanse of the bay 
 rolls to the very base of the long and smoothly-paved walk; 
 a spacious and level road for carriages lies between this and 
 the range of palaces and gardens which bound it on the op- 
 posite side; while at both extremities the noble promon- 
 
THE NOVITIATE. 101 
 
 tories, which rear themselves proteetingly, and enclose the 
 harbor, shield the beautiful resort and gratify the eye of the 
 visitor. Thus the imposing vicinity of the finest edifices, the 
 verdure and perfume of a public garden, and the cool bright 
 sea, are concentrated, as it were, around this magnificent 
 Marina. Those who dislike the vicinity of vehicles and 
 horsemen can repair to the terrace which rises above the 
 road, and extends to half the length of the drive. The con- 
 tinuance of this upper walk is all that is wanting to complete 
 the splendid promenade. On gala days nothing can exceed 
 the cheerful and elegant aspect of this scene. Equipages, of 
 every degree of richness, pass in long lines to and fro through 
 the centre, and the walks appear thronged with the various 
 costumes of southern Europe. And daily, at all seasons, 
 about two hours after mid-day, the stranger may find it more 
 or less fashionably occupied. But it is in the summer even- 
 ings that the Marina of Palermo appears to the greatest ad- 
 vantage, and is most generally and consciously enjoyed. 
 Half the population repair thither to enjoy the sea-breeze. 
 The distant mountains are robed in a greener hue ; the adja- 
 cent groves are clothed in the richest tints ; the ocean coolly 
 murmurs, and stretches, like a crystal plain, before the eye 
 wearied with the scorching heat of these southern skies. The 
 burning sun is slowly sinking in the west. Then the nobility 
 seek, in their open carriages, the refreshing breeze from the 
 ocean. The fat priest seats himself on one of the marble 
 benches ; the soldier leans upon his musket, and raises his 
 heavy cap, to catch the delicious air ; the freed child gambols 
 along the terrace walk ; the languid beauty readily accepts 
 the ice which her gallant proffers at the side of her landau ; 
 and to stir the serenity of the scene with a congenial excite- 
 ment, music, from a band stationed about the centre of the 
 drive, in a temporary theatre, steals forth ,to cheer and to 
 
102 SICILY. 
 
 charm the gay multitude. Such is the Marina on a summer 
 night. But when Frazier and the count, obeying the sug- 
 gestion of Isabel, left the carriage at one of the gates, and 
 came out upon the promenade, it was almost entirely solitary. 
 In the distance, the figure of a single individual might be 
 seen hurrying along ; and at one or two points a knot of 
 fishermen were arranging their nets. High, dark, and tower- 
 ing rose the mountains, and the foliage seemed blent in one 
 heavy mass. But over the face of the sea, and on the palace 
 roofs, the beams of the full moon glittered ; and the foam- 
 streaks shone in the mild light, as they ran, with a plaintive 
 and hollow murmur, along the stones. As Isabel and her 
 companions gained the walk, and felt the soothing effect of 
 a promenade by the sea at so quiet an hour, they wondered 
 that so few had improved the privileged time. But her mind 
 was intent upon the scene she had left. The light demeanor 
 of the young novitiate, the interesting expression of her face, 
 the solemnity of the rite, remained vividly impressed upon 
 her mind ; and she was eager in her inquiries of Yittorio as 
 to the views of the parent and the feelings of the child. 
 
 " You must have observed me," he replied, " conversing 
 with a young man in the parlatorio^ who was seated near 
 your uncle. That youth, more than two years since, became 
 enamored of the novice. He had a small income — not, how- 
 ever, sufficient to warrant his marriage unassisted by addi- 
 tional means. His affection was reciprocated. The father 
 of the young lady is a man of wealth. At the commence- 
 ment of the suit he objected to its consummation on several 
 trivial grounds. These difficulties were at length obviated ; 
 but the father at last peremptorily refused to advance his 
 daughter the sum requisite for her establishment. There is 
 no doubt that he could have done this without any actual 
 sacrifice • but he is a man who has gained his property slowly, 
 
THE NOVITIATE. 103 
 
 and, in its acquisition, has acquired that base love of wealth 
 for its own sake, which too often shows itself stronger than 
 those affections which are the deejDest, and should be the 
 most inviolate sentiments of the heart. The daughter, wea- 
 ried with the disappointment and suspense of her situation, 
 and despairing of any favorable change, resolved to quit the 
 world." 
 
 " This accounts," said Isabel, " for i\iQ smiling manner in 
 which she went through the ceremony. It was the levity of 
 hopelessness, the mock playfulness of despair." 
 
 " And wonder not," resumed Vittorio, " that she should 
 find little to interest in this world, after her prospects were 
 thus blighted. She has seen only, or chiefly, the worst side 
 of human nature. She has reason to believe in the universal 
 reign of selfishness : for this, society and her own kindred 
 have taught her. Her passion was not a violent one. She 
 sought in the cloister, not so much a refuge from disappointed 
 affection as an asylum adapted to one who is indifferent to 
 the world because she has nothing to hope from it." 
 
 " The more shame to the land of her birth !" exclaimed 
 Frazier, " since there was, in the circle of her experience, no 
 human being whose example inspired her with an ambition to 
 be useful — no one of her sex whose character and domestic 
 influence suggested the idea of living for the improvement of 
 others — no instance of female devotion in the path of single 
 life. In America, thank Heaven ! there is scarcely a family 
 where there is not a genuine sister of charity, in the shape 
 of what is vulgarly called an old maid." 
 
 Isabel smiled, and said, when they were again seated in 
 the carriage, " There is, to my mind, something awful in the 
 idea of so young and gifted a woman thus incarcerating her- 
 self without even the supporting motive of devotional enthu- 
 siasm. Her blithe manner when kneeling in that cloistral 
 
 \ 
 
104 SICILY. 
 
 garb was more touching to me than would have been her 
 tears. It spoke of a light estimation of life and its blessings, 
 a want of perception of human responsibility, an utter insen- 
 sibility to that spiritual destiny which can throw over the 
 most objectless existence an infinite interest, and a superhu- 
 man dignity. Of this not a thought seems to have dawned 
 upon that maiden's mind." 
 
 " No," said the count, " she has gone in all her loveliness 
 and innocence from the home of her childhood. She has left 
 the circle her presence should have gladdened — the kindred 
 whose happiness should have been hers. Talents of untried 
 power, love of unfathomable intensity, will be palsied by a 
 round of mechanical rites and trivial occupations. Yet, neg- 
 ative and blighting as I feel such a fate to be, consider how 
 I am obliged to reproach my country, when I say that, in all 
 probability, her life as a Catholic nun will be infinitely hap- 
 pier than that of a Sicilian wife." 
 
I^ittarin. 
 
 The spirit culls 
 Unfaded amaranth, when wild it straya 
 Through the old garden-ground of boyish days. Keats. 
 
 THE site of the Villa Giulia, or public garden of Palermo, 
 with the exception of its low and therefore somewhat hu- 
 mid position, is singularly felicitous. It is separated, in its 
 whole length, from the sea, only by the Marina, and as there 
 are no intervening buildings, the whole extent of the bay is 
 open to the eye of the wanderer through its verdant pre- 
 cincts. And however warm may be the season, one can 
 scarcely fail, before noon, or at sunset, to discover some shady 
 recess which is freely visited by the breeze from the water. 
 Adjoining this favorite retreat is the Botanical Garden, whose 
 lofty palm-trees rise picturesquely to the eye, giving an as- 
 pect of oriental beauty to that portion of the prospect. It 
 was throuo'h this* enclosure that, durins; the late sieire, the 
 troops from Naples effected their approach to the walls, and 
 the rich exotics which adorned the establishment were crushed 
 beneath the ruthless feet of the soldiery. The more public 
 grounds of the adjacent garden once witnessed a still more 
 sacrilegious scene. During the sway of the Inquisition, a 
 
 5* 
 
106 SICILY. 
 
 priest and nun were burnt alive on this spot, in the presence 
 of an immense assemblage, for having declared themselves 
 favored bj miraculous visions. There is nothing now to re- 
 mind the visitor of these or similar events. The noble en- 
 trance of the Botanical institution conducts him into a circu- 
 lar apartment, classically adorned, whence a fine vista of for- 
 eign trees, and several admirably constructed stuffos. are dis- 
 coverable ; and the utmost neatness, order, and beauty grat- 
 ify the eye. The villa is somewhat more extensive, and is 
 tastefully laid out into allej^s, shaded with the interwoven' 
 branches of the orange-trees, and diversified with parterres 
 of flowers, statues, and fountains, forming one of those quiet 
 and delightful resorts which are planted, with such beautiful 
 wisdom, amid the dense buildings and confined thoroughfares 
 of European cities. For several hours during Sunday, in 
 the spring and summer, a band, stationed about the centre 
 of the garden, enliven the throng with a variety of airs ; and 
 the scene, at such periods, is one of the most pleasant ima- 
 ginable, as all classes of citizens are seen strolling in parties 
 through the paths, clustered listlessly about the fountains, or 
 conversing in groups in some retired nook of the extensive 
 grounds. 
 
 It was during one of their promenades in this favorite 
 spot, on a clear, bright morning, that Count Vittorio was in- 
 duced, at the earnest wish of his companions, to speak of his 
 former life. The garden was almost solitary. The season 
 and the spot awakened the early associations of the count ; 
 and the sight of a rosy little child, setting »t defiance the en- 
 treaties and threats of his nurse as he shouted and gambolled 
 along the walks, carried him back to the well-remembered 
 days when he had sported in that very garden under similar 
 surveillance. Yielding to the impulse of awakened memory, 
 he imparted to his attentive and deeply interested friends a 
 
VITTORTO. 107 
 
 sketch of his experience, in that spirit of confidence and free- 
 dom which the breath of Nature and the spell of congenial 
 companionship naturally awakens: — 
 
 '• The memory of my earliest years confirms the general 
 idea that the first epoch in life, however distinguished by ex- 
 uberance of feeling and earnest curiosity, is not necessarily 
 the period when the leading traits of character are manifested, 
 or its highest principles formed. I remember my early boy- 
 hood as a period of intense pleasure, and frequent though not 
 lasting disappointment. Every object and agency which ap- 
 pealed to natural sentiment found an instant response in my 
 heart. For several years my daily pastime consisted in gaz- 
 ing from the balcony of our palace, which overlooked the 
 principal street. The narrow bounds of this little gallery 
 constituted the sanctum of my childhood. I ran to and fro 
 over its tiled floor, and peeped through the iron-wrought bal- 
 ustrj^de, while my mother sat at her embroidery frame near 
 the open window, watching my sports. Here dawned upon 
 my young mind its first notions of the world. Hour by hour 
 I gazed down upon the passing crowd, and to the silent ob- 
 servation of those childish days I can trace many of the opin- 
 ions and prejudices of after-years. I saw a moving panorama 
 of human life, and deeply sank its lessons into my mind. 
 There were two classes of men, who, even at that hour, were 
 the objects of my dislike, and against whom there grew up in 
 my breast an inveterate antipathy, which after-experience, 
 unhappily, has not tended to remove. These were soldiers 
 and priests. The former I detested partly, perhaps, on ac- 
 count of their stern manner, but chiefly because I saw them 
 conducting the prisoners, whose fettered limbs and miserable 
 appearance excited my pity. The latter awakened my abhor- 
 rence from the moment that I was the witness of the over- 
 bearing demeanor of one of their fraternity who visited our 
 
108 SICILY. 
 
 Bouse, and with a cold pertinacity wliicli roused my impotent 
 anger, persisted in being informed of every detail of our do- 
 mestic affairs. I was especially annoyed at the number of 
 these two classes which mingled in the passing crowd ; and 
 when any priestly procession or regiment of soldiers entered 
 the Toledo, instead of remaining at my post, I would run to 
 the very extremity of the saloon, and shut my ears against 
 the sound of the approaching drum or the rising chant. This 
 conduct surprised my mother, and she endeavored, but with- 
 out effect, to correct these prejudices, particularly that against 
 the priests ; for being herself a strict Catholic, she considered 
 the feeling I manifested toward the professed ministers of the 
 faith as fraught with danger. Her apprehensions, however, 
 were much lessened by the pleasure I evinced in attending 
 the functions on feast days at St. Giuseppe. She knew not 
 that it was the grand strain of the organ and the solemn ar- 
 chitecture which charmed me, and that often as I was kneel- 
 ing beside her on the marble floor, my imagination, awakened 
 by these incentives, was wandering in wild dreams and vague 
 speculations, while my lips mechanically repeated the words 
 of the mass. My other great source of pleasure was listening 
 to the singing of the daughter of one of our neighbors. . This 
 lady, like most of the Sicilians, had large eyes of the most 
 brilliant jet. Her voice was of great compass, and she sang 
 with much naivete and pathos. She was very partial to me, 
 and as often as I could obtain permission to visit her house, 
 she would sing my favorite airs, and bend her dark eyes in 
 kindness upon me, as I sat, lost in delight, upon a stool at 
 her feet. These amusements, with occasional pic-nic excur- 
 sions in the summer, made up the history of my childhood. 
 Simple as the circle of this experience seems, it was not al- 
 together inadequate to the nature to which it ministered. 
 My affections— those eternal fountains, in whose freshness, 
 
VITTORIO. 109 
 
 purity, and freedom the happiness of humanity is most deeply 
 involved — were gratified and cherished. My mind — that in- 
 telligent power, in the expansion and culture of which so 
 much of human progress and energy consists — feasted on the 
 glory of nature and the variety of the human world. Curi- 
 osity was not then satiated ; the sense of wonder had not be- 
 come palsied — feeling was vivid, responsive, and earnest, 
 glowing with the intensity of its celestial origin. When first 
 I began to reason, it seemed to me men were prone to exag- 
 gerate the happiness of childhood. I thought it so glorious 
 a thing to inquire, to unroll the scroll of knowledge, and to 
 see everything in the light of science. The illusion was tem- 
 porary. I soon learned that the less of the spontaneous there 
 is in character, the less also is there of interest ; that techni- 
 cality can petrify truth, and that the sooner the rosy glow of 
 life's morning fades from the spirit's domain, the faster gath- 
 ers over it the chill shadow of the world and the dim atmos- 
 phere of Time. 
 
 " But long before childhood was merged in youth I was 
 called to trial. My mother died. Every circumstance of 
 this event remains impressed upon my mind, but it was not 
 until years after its occurrence that I realized its consequen- 
 ces. The greatest misfortune that can happen to a young 
 man is such a bereavement. Naught can recompense him for 
 the loss of a mother. A father's afiection is generally more 
 worldly. It is too often graduated by the degree of success 
 with which his son may meet in the pursuit of wealth or 
 fame. A mother's love is more of an inborn and self-nour- 
 ished sentiment. I know we have recorded signal instances 
 of parental ambition in woman ; but it has far oftener been 
 my lot to witness the manifestations of an attachment infi- 
 nitely purer. To a man of true and deep sentiment there is 
 no greater consolation, in the whole range of his afi"ections 
 
no SICILY. 
 
 than the consciousness that there is one being who loves him 
 for his own sake ; whose devotion the changes of his fortune 
 will not infiuencej and to whose eye the fairest laurels cannot 
 make him dearer ; who loves him individually, and regards 
 the circumstances, the wealth, the honors that environ him, 
 only as temporary means of his enjoyment — a graceful dra- 
 pery, which, if the rude blast of misfortune throws it off, will 
 but make her clasp him closer to her heart, and more tenderly 
 cherish him in her love. But it was only by slow degrees 
 that the extent of this early loss came home to my mind ; 
 and its memory proved one of the most subduing and chas- 
 tening thoughts which visited my impetuous youth. Another 
 of its good effects was its influence upon my social life. I 
 cultivated, from a mere boy, such female society as was cal- 
 culated to elevate my mind and call forth my best feelings. 
 My heart has never been suffered to indurate from the ab- 
 sence of that gentler companionship, without the influence 
 of which, all that is most refined in man would be superseded. 
 There has ever been within the scope of my acquaintance, 
 some fair being who has found the time and the feeling, amid 
 more binding relations, to evince a soul-soothing interest 
 which cheered my orphanage. I have never been wholly 
 motherless. 
 
 " My father's mind was now entirely devoted to political 
 schemes. He was an ardent republican, and for many years 
 had been secretly engaged in a confederacy to secure the in- 
 dependence of Sicily. And when the dearest of his domestic 
 ties was severed, all the energy of his nature was concentrated 
 upon this darling purpose. Although I was but a child, yet, 
 from my reflective turn, my father reposed a confidence in 
 me which I have since recalled with wonder. I was his sole 
 companion at home ; and, after returning from the conclave, 
 he would sit in the hall, now bereft of the presence which 
 
VITTORIO. 1 1 1 
 
 hallowed it to his view, and, drawing me to his side, half 
 soliloquize over his past happiness and present objects, while 
 I looked my sj'mpathy, and caught, perhaps, more of the 
 spirit of his designs than he could have imagined. How 
 vivid is the retrospect of those hours ! I can see before me 
 now the long and lofty apartment, its ranges of sofas, and 
 gilded cornices ; the brightly-painted frescos on the ceiling, 
 the table covered with little memorials (the deliglii of my 
 childhood) of my mother's tasteful handiwork, the alabaster 
 vase daily filled with flowers ; and, in the shade of the cur- 
 tains, the figure of my fiither in his sable dress, his pale 
 features shaded by a cap of black velvet, and his eye resting 
 musingly and mournfully on me, as he unconsciously poured 
 forth the feelings which overcharged his breast. To the 
 solemnizing efi"ect of these seasons I attribute much of the 
 thoughtfulness which distinguished my youth. I felt myself 
 marked out and signalized by being thus made the cofifidant 
 of my father. The sense of character soon dawned upon me. 
 The idea of responsibility was precociously developed. I 
 began early to think. Though mute on the great subject of 
 my parent's thought, though inadequate to comprehend the 
 extent of his aim and the importance of his object, yet I un- 
 derstood distinctly, I felt deeply, that my country was de- 
 pressed, subject to an exterior domination, and that her en- 
 franchisement was in contemplation. I cannot tell you how 
 the grandeur of this design delighted my young fancy. It 
 was the subject of each day's musing and each night's dreams. 
 The very vagueness of my conceptions increased their power. 
 Often have I left the servant who attended me, at the church 
 of St. Kosalia, and climbed to the telegraph on the summit 
 of Mount Pelegrino, and gazing thence over the lovely valley 
 of Palermo, and seaward to the Eolian isles, thought of the 
 new glor}^ which would illumine the scene beneath the smile 
 
112 SICILY. 
 
 of Liberty. True, I knew not clearly the nature of the bless- 
 ing ; but I had learned to think that in its train all others 
 came, and I understood it to be especially inimical to soldiers 
 and priests — the objects of my boyish detestation. I knew 
 something, too, of the history of my native island, and images 
 of ancient glory, ill-defined, but glowing, fed the flame of my 
 enthusiasm. It was June. The luxuriance of summer, without 
 its scorching heat, breathed, like a conscious presence, around 
 the dense confines of the city. To my young being the time 
 was full of inspiration ; and one breezy evening, as I sat on 
 a granite bench upon yonder terrace, looking on the gay 
 groups below, and feeling the exhilarating breath of the sea, 
 I followed a poetical vein which I had often indulged, and 
 wrote upon my tablets an invocation to my country. These 
 verses, some years afterwards, when I was learning your lan- 
 guage, I translated, and repeat them, because they will give 
 you a good idea of the wild wishes of that hour. 
 
 * Gaze around o'er your country, Sicilians ! and start 
 From the impotent sleep of degenerate slaves ; 
 Like the eagle, long poised, now trimuphantly dart 
 On the minions that trample your ancestors' graves. 
 
 ' Gaze around o'er your country ! — the crystal-blue deep 
 With pearl-flashing foam wreaths encircles the land, 
 And the sentinel hills in wild majesty sweep 
 From western horizon to orient strand. 
 
 ' The orange groves gleam mid the dark olive bowers, 
 Like gold drops which wood-nymphs have sportively thrown j 
 Where the broad thorny cactus and aloe strew flowers, 
 And the emerald shafts of the cypresses moan. 
 
 ' Gaze around o'er your country ! — in many a dale 
 Some beautiful temple, with ivy leaves wreathed, 
 Like a voice from Time's dark and mysterious vale, 
 Proclaims where the spirit of liberty breathed. 
 
VITTORIO. 113 
 
 ' Gaze around o'er your country ! — old Etna unfurls 
 Her wide saffron banner alonj^ the clear sky ; 
 Or from her white summit indignantly hurls 
 The blaze of her beacon-flame lurid and high. 
 
 ' And often the streams in stern solitude gush 
 From thy mountain-clouds into some lofty ravine, 
 And then, like an army, in fierce triumph rush 
 Through rugged defiles and o'er valleys serene. 
 
 ' where are the men who for Sicily fought 
 With warrior zeal in the van of each war 1 
 And the maidens who proudly their dark tresses wrought 
 Into bow-strings to drive the invaders afar1* 
 
 o^ 
 
 ' Forth, scions of pride ! — your high titles retrieve ; 
 Forth, sons of the deep ! leave your nets on the shore ; 
 Forth, children of Ceres ! your corn cease to weave — 
 To the altars, ye women ! for freedom implore. 
 
 • From ancient Charybdis, where swift eddies play, 
 From Passaro's beach, where tlie green waters smile, 
 To the proud cliff that looms o'er Palermo's bright bay, 
 Strike, strike for Sicilia, your foe-stricken isle ! 
 
 ' What Nature's fresh glory has robed to allure, 
 Let Valor redeem and let Virtue endear ; 
 Rise, Sicily, rise ! and no longer endure 
 The base hireling's scoff or the patriot's tear.' 
 
 " The secret party of which my father was so devoted a 
 member were doomed to disappointment, from a cause which 
 has often occasioned the failure of popular movements — pre- 
 mature action on the part of those least fitted to assume the 
 responsibility. Among the many ancient traditions relative 
 to this island is that which asserts that it once formed part 
 of the mainland. If there is any truth in this, it might ap- 
 
 * It is an historical fact, that at the siege of Messina the women 
 braided their hair into bow-strings, for the use of the archers. 
 
114 SICILY. 
 
 pear that with the convulsion of Nature which divided it 
 from the continent, sprang up a similar line of demarkation 
 between the inhabitants of the two territories ; for the present 
 cordial hatred existing between the Sicilians and Neapolitans 
 is an antipathy inherited from the earliest time, and at no 
 period have the inhabitants of Sicily been reconciled to the 
 idea of forming a constituent part of the kingdom of Naples. 
 If any other motive had been requisite to render their inde- 
 pendence more obviously desirable, it was furnished by the 
 experience they had of the English constitution during the 
 brief continuance of the British domination. In the summer 
 of 1820, the popular feeling on this subject reached its acme. 
 At the feast of St. Kosaiia, while mass was celebrating at 
 the cathedral, the first indication of an approaching tumult 
 was given by some person in the crowd suddenly and repeat- 
 edly exclaiming, ' Liberty and the Constitution !' In the 
 evening three soldiers passed through the streets wearing the 
 badge of the Carbonari. The commanding officer went in 
 person to arrest them, but was surrounded by the people, and 
 narrowly escaped with his life. The next day the populace 
 forced from the authorities an order of admittance into the 
 arsenal, and there supplied themselves with arms. This suc- 
 cess emboldened them beyond measure. A Franciscan friar, 
 whom intoxication had infuriated, appeared in their, midst, 
 urging them on to sanguinary effort Their latent supersti- 
 tion was awakened. They looked upon tlie long beard and 
 sacred habit of their monkish leader, and with one voice de- 
 clared him to be Moses, commissioned by Heaven to secure 
 their independence. The prison was thrown open, and the 
 city echoed with the noise of conflict. For several days 
 anarchy reigned in Palermo. The rabble, intoxicated with 
 their temporary triumphs, gave themselves up to indiscrimi- 
 nate rapine and butchery. The horrid scenes then enacted, 
 
VITTORIO. 115 
 
 the license and brutality which prevailed, indicated the utter 
 unfitness of the people for the dignity and blessings of politi- 
 cal freedom. Slowly but surely this impression gained upon 
 the reluctant mind of ray father. Still he exerted himself to 
 •\irrest the newly-acquired power from the mob, and restore 
 order and peace. After some time this was eflfected. A pro- 
 vincial government was established, and for a few months the 
 capital of Sicily was nominally independent. But small was 
 the satisfaction which this lon2;-desired condition brouirht to 
 the minds of the intelligent patriots. They could effect no 
 unity of sentiment or action between the different parts of 
 the island. Messina, mindful of her long rivalry with the 
 metropolis, refused to take part in the cause. The Neapoli- 
 tan troops stationed themselves near the walls, and after 
 repeated repulses were finally admitted within the gates. A 
 year afterwards the inhabitants were prohibited from holding 
 arms without a license, the usual enginery of despotism was 
 re-established, and the leaders of the struo-o-le and known ad- 
 vocates of liberal principles were executed or banished. The 
 latter was my father's fate ; and as the mountains of our na- 
 tive island faded from our view, the last hope of patriotic 
 success vanished drearily from his mind, and the first bright 
 and absorbing dream of boyhood melted like a mist from my 
 sanguine heart. 
 
 " We soon repaired to England. There, when habit had 
 somewhat reconciled me to the reserve of northern manners, 
 and practice had given me the command of your native 
 tongue, I was conscious of a new and important era of men- 
 tal experience. I became deeply interested in the study of 
 English literature. I communed with the master spirits of 
 that noble lore, enriching my mind with philosophical truth, 
 and my imagination with poetic beauty of a deeper and more 
 elevating character than the prevailing literature of the South 
 
116 SICILY. 
 
 had afforded me. But from these studies I gained general 
 ideas rather than fixed principles. This was the more to be 
 regretted, as I soon arrived at one of those gloomy epochs 
 of life, more or less known to us all, where ' of necessity the 
 soul must be its own support.' My father, wearied with dis- 
 appointment, and rendered restless by the changes which had 
 followed in such rapid succession upon his declining years, 
 sunk under the effects of a fever, and grief and anxiety would 
 have soon laid me beside him, had I not yielded to the ur- 
 gency of friends, and changed the scene and climate. I se- 
 lected Malta for the place of my destination, chiefly because 
 of its contiguity to my native island. I little thought, in the 
 dejected mood in which I embarked, of the consolation there 
 awaiting me. So happy is the retrospect of my visit, not- 
 withstanding it occurred at one of the saddest periods of my 
 life, that I dwell upon every circumstance attending it with 
 unabated pleasure. The day of my arrival and those imme- 
 diately succeeding it, are thus brightly present to my mem- 
 ory, because they are associated with one of the most blessed 
 occasions of my youth. It was then that I gained one of the 
 greatest of human acquisitions, a sense of important truths, 
 in the light of which the darkness and doubt which overshad- 
 owed my spirit were suddenly dissipated. 
 
 " The sun shone clearly as we neared Malta. The warmth 
 of the atmosphere, the deep blue tint of the water, and the 
 tones in which we were greeted, made me realize that I had 
 once more entered the precincts of Southern Europe. In 
 the distance, more like a pictorial than a real scene, rose the 
 ancient city. Its peculiar hue, the long line of massive bat- 
 tlements, and the darkly-wrought domes, chained our atten- 
 tion. In a few moments we were at anchor in the quarantine 
 harbor, between two forts. A clump of verdure relieved the 
 eye as it rested on the heavy walls, all wearing the same dim 
 
VTTTORIO. 117 
 
 yellow or grayish shade ; and the picturesque figures of the 
 Highland regiment gave animation to the scene. The view 
 was beautiful after the moon rose. The shadow of the dark 
 wall on the calm tide, the soothing reflection of the light, the 
 perfect repose, was all in striking contrast to the scenes of 
 bloodshed, and the sounds of death, with which my memory 
 was busy. On the evening of the next day we received per- 
 mission to go round the grand harbor. As, towed by fifteen 
 boats, we slowly proceeded, at sunset, from every new point 
 the city spread out before us — the long bastions dotted with 
 moss, at whose wave-washed faundations the restless tide now 
 moaned ; above them dark ranges of buildings, and around, 
 various craft plying. "We entered the harbor between the 
 memorable castles of St. Elmo and St. Angelo, and were 
 soon moored by the quay, along which were swarming the 
 motley crowd ever to be seen at night-fall in such a place. 
 It was not until the succeeding evening that we obtained 
 pratique. As I walked up the Nix-Mangare stairs, the sup- 
 plicating voices of the beggars, the silent sternness of the 
 soldiery, the clanking fetters of the convicts sweeping the 
 streets, and here and there a shrine, carried me at once back 
 to my home and the days of childhood. The intervening 
 space of time seemed annihilated. Nor was this feeling les- 
 sened on entering our hotel, which had been a knight's palace. 
 The stone floors, painted walls, and lofty ceilings were 
 strangely familiar. A new sense of my loneliness, of all that 
 I had lost and sufi"ered, came over me. I felt more keenly 
 than ever that I was an orphan and an exile. 
 
 " My companions, without understanding the nature of 
 my melancholy, strove to divert it. and dragged me that very 
 evening to a ball given by the officers of the regiments then 
 quartered in the island. The display was very brilliant. 
 At the entrance of the hall were four suits of ancient armor, 
 
118 SICILY. 
 
 arranged at the corners of a kind of military tent ; and at 
 the head of the ball-room was a fine staff of colors surround- 
 ing the British escutcheon. The scarlet uniform of the mil- 
 itary, and the neat blue of the naval officers, the calm faces 
 and light ringlets of the English damsels, contrasting with 
 the dark hair and eyes of the Maltese, the national banners 
 and fresh garlands on the walls, rendered the pageant quite 
 dazzling. This insignia of joy into which I had suffered my- 
 self to be drawn, instead of alleviating, served to deepen the 
 gloom which oppressed me. Gladness was upon every face, 
 and I asked myself whether there was one amid the multi- 
 tude who was an outcast like myself As the idea presented 
 itself, my eye fell upon a countenance which seemed almost 
 to answer the unuttered inquiry. It was that of a man be- 
 yond the prime of life, whose expression would have denoted 
 no common familiarity with sorrow, were it not for a certain 
 tranquil dignity and benign spirit which softened and ele- 
 vated its aspect. As the gaze of the stranger met my own, 
 I felt that instinctive consciousness of sympathy which is so 
 impressive yet inexplicable. I watched his movements; I 
 followed his eye, and endeavored to image his thoughts, till 
 a call to the supper-room interrupted my sight for a few mo- 
 ments, after which I discovered that he had left the assem- 
 bly. My pillow was haunted by that thoughtful and kindly 
 face. Its remembrance comforted me as if I had read there 
 a message of love. I could not account for these vagaries ; 
 and on the following morning stole away from my compan- 
 ions, and went forth to make the circuit of the ramparts, to 
 see what effect a solitary walk would have in dispelling my 
 gloomy mood. Upon one of the saluting batteries are sev- 
 eral monuments tastefully adorned with trees. Here is a 
 pleasant promenade. Below, various vessels are moored; 
 far away to the left is the wide sea, and immediately beneath, 
 
VITTORIO. 119 
 
 the dingy houses and narrow streets of the town. Alto- 
 gether the prospect was impressive and pleasing. The adja- 
 cent memorials of the dead, the refreshing hue of the shrub- 
 bery, and the hum of busy life, with the ocean stretching 
 inimitably, and shadowed only by a passing cloud or the 
 wing of a sea-bird, combined to form one of those happily- 
 blended landscapes which embody, in mingled and striking 
 symbols, the idea of nature and art, of ancient times and 
 modern characteristics, of man and his Creator. I leaned 
 over the parapet, and endeavored to catch something of its 
 calm and pleasantness. But it came not ; and I applied ear- 
 nestly to myself the words of the poet : 
 
 ' Alas ! I have nor hope nor health, 
 Nor peace within, nor calm around, 
 
 Nor that content surpassing wealth 
 The sage in meditation found,' 
 
 '• As if to bless me with the last boon, I saw ascending to 
 the bastion the gentleman whose appearance had so interested 
 me at the ball. We exchanged salutations, and then spoke 
 of the prospects before us. The voice and manner of the 
 stranger were singularly winning. By degrees our acquain- 
 tance advanced, and in a week there was knit between us a 
 bond of sympathy which time cannot sever. I imparted to 
 my friend what you have so patiently heard. He repaid me 
 by unfolding the theory of his faith, which has been my con- 
 solation from that hour. Yet his historj'", his very name, is 
 unknown to me Our interviews took place during our daily 
 promenades, and just as he was about to fulfil his promise, 
 and confide his own experience to me. the vessel in which he 
 had taken passage for the East was suddenly ordered to sail, 
 and I had not even an opportunity of bidding him farewell. 
 The following day, receiving oilicial permission to return to 
 
120 SICILY. 
 
 Sicily, I immediately embarked, and arrived here an altered 
 being ; for those characteristics and views which you have 
 so often wondered should appertain to a native of these re- 
 gions, are but the result of my communion with that stran- 
 ger-friend." 
 
Bisrraion. 
 
 The only true liberal subjects of conversation aro thoughts and actions of uni- 
 rersal interest. De Stall. 
 
 IT was the custom of the little party whose journejings we 
 have followed, to pass the evenings not devoted to some 
 engagement, in conversing upon the experience of the day. 
 Not unfrequently the ladies of Isabel's acquaintance insisted 
 upon her society in a morning's ride or a day's excursion, 
 and the gentlemen were left to seek amusement by them- 
 selves. They atoned, however, for these occasional interrup- 
 tions to their mutual intercourse, by relating, on meeting, all 
 that had interested them, or was likely to divert their gifted 
 companion from the sad musings into which, when unexcited 
 by attractive conversation, she would almost invariably fall. 
 One evening, however, both her uncle and Vittorio were un- 
 usually silent. They seemed quite thoughtful and abstracted, 
 and Isabel herself began to wonder at the spiritless mood 
 which had overtaken them all ; and eagerly inquired what 
 had occupied her companions since breakfast. 
 
 " We have been," replied her uncle, " in scenes well cal- 
 culated to awaken thought ; we have been contemplating the 
 states to which all human beings ar.e liable ; we have been 
 among the insane and the dead," 
 
 6 
 
122 SICILY. 
 
 " I am, perhaps, to blame," said the count, " for having 
 taken your uncle to two such places in one day, but it was 
 quite accidental. We first went to the Capuchin Convent, 
 and descended into the catacombs. An old brother, of Por- 
 tuguese origin, who speaks a little English, was our guide. 
 He seemed pleased with the opportunity thus afforded for 
 exercising his almost forgotten acquisition, and continually, 
 as we threaded these sepulchral chambers, repeated verse 
 after verse, from that impressive chapter of Ecclesiastes de- 
 scriptive of the vanity of life- As he preceded us, with his 
 coarse brown robe and gray beard descending over his breast, 
 ever and anon reciting in a hollow tone these memorable pas- 
 sages, so appropriate to the scene, I could not but think the 
 guide was singularly adapted to his vocation. The long wide 
 galleries of this extraordinary sepulchre are crowded with 
 niches, in which stand the frames of men, dressed in their 
 professional garbs — the priest with his cassock, the friar with 
 his hood ; their fleshless eye-sockets and set teeth glaring, as 
 it were, upon the intruder into their subterranean halls. The 
 floor is covered with coffins ; the sides walled with skeletons ; 
 everything betokens the abode of the dead, and the light of 
 day, and echo of a living footstep, seem startlingly unnatural. 
 A tinsel crown clasps the bare skull of the king of Tunis ; 
 and there is one long room in which the female bodies appear 
 in glass cases, like those in which the Parisian shopkeeper 
 displays his valuables, decked out in gay silks and tawdry 
 ornaments, in horrible contrast with the mouldering bones. 
 Altogether the spectacle is one of the most singular and re- 
 volting imaginable." 
 
 " The scene at the Insane xlsylum," said Frazier, " was 
 more satisfactory, though not less dispiriting. The evidences 
 of care and kindness bestowed upon beings who in less civilized 
 times were treated as outcasts, is trulv deliirhtful. The Baron 
 
DISCUSSION. 123 
 
 PisanI, who originated and now superintends the establish- 
 ment, attends to his duty with an intelligence and philanthro- 
 py which merits imitation. There are gardens and grottos, 
 and even a little amphitheatre to amuse the inmates. Frescos 
 on every side please the eye ; fountains murmur to soothe 
 the ear. Work is provided to distract the attention of the 
 insane from the single corroding idea in which their malady 
 so often consists ; and firmness and affection seem to be the 
 ever-present principles by which the wayward creatures are 
 ruled and guided." 
 
 " It is the boast of many of these deranged people," con- 
 tinued the count, " that they have constructed the embellish- 
 ments of their asylum. There is a little song in vogue among 
 them, declaring that it is not they that are mad, but the un- 
 happy toilers for this world's aims who are, without the walls 
 of their retreat. Indeed everything is done to banish from 
 their minds all consciousness of their desolate state, and they 
 cherish an affectionate respect for the baron, the manifesta- 
 tions of which are truly beautiful. Still, no arrangements, 
 however excellent, can obviate the painful impression of such 
 a scene. In our walk round the institution, we beheld every 
 degree and variety of this terrible form of human suffering. 
 The cries of the frantic echoed from their gloomy cells ; here 
 sat a miserable hypochondriac, to whose eyes God's sunlight 
 brings no gladness, swaying to and fro his attenuated frame, 
 bowed down with unutterable dejection ; there walked, in 
 restless misery, a priest, upon whose pale brow brooded the 
 most abject despair. Upon a bench, in a lonely corner, 
 crouched an old man who had once excelled ir^ science, and 
 is now lingering out existence in speechless woe. There was 
 a Greek woman, with a fine open countenance, and pleasant 
 eye, singing to herself She believes that a superior intelli- 
 gence is enamored of her charms, and the idea, instead of 
 
124 SICILY. 
 
 flattering her vanity, plays upon her mind as a most undesira- 
 ble and inauspicious circumstance. An old artillery captain, 
 with a guitar, was reciting with much gusto some passage 
 from Meli, whose especial panegyrist he considers himself. 
 A painter, whom disappointment in his art rendered mad, has 
 now nearly recovered the tone of his mind, and the walls of 
 the house and corridors testify to his industry and skill. As 
 one wanders amid these stricken beings, how valueless seem 
 the objects, idolatry to which are such prolific causes of mad- 
 ness — gain and ambition ! Yet before these perishable shrines, 
 men prostrate their noblest endowments, and lose in the 
 whirlwind of passion their most distinguishing and god-like 
 attributes. Some, indeed, have become insane from more 
 touching causes — blighted affection, wounded honor, bereaved 
 friendship. What cause for gratitude have we, while we can 
 think rationally, while the light of reason burns clear, and 
 the soul possesses herself in peace ; while the harmony of 
 creation steals with an unbroken cadence upon the spirit, and 
 the rays of truth fall full and brightly over the heart ; while 
 the blessings of existence descend gratefully upon the path 
 of life, and the darker passes of experience throw over it only 
 a solemnizing shadow, and not an impenetrable gloom !" 
 
 The sound of bells ringing the Ave Maria now rose to 
 the ears of the coterie. 
 
 '• That chime," said Frazier, " rung not so peacefully over 
 Palermo some centuries back, when it ushered in a night of 
 the most horrible massacre recorded in history. There is a tra- 
 dition, current I believe among the islanders, that this extermi- 
 nating plot, known under the name of the Sicilian Vespers, 
 was brought about by a poor fellow who had suffered greatly 
 from the tyranny of the French, and who, pretending to be 
 deaf, made the tour of Sicily on foot, whispering in every 
 Sicilian ear, that on the thirtieth of March, at this hour, all 
 
DISCUSSION. 125 
 
 residents were to be put to death who could not pronounce 
 the word ciceri (vetches), a test that would infallibly betray 
 a Frenchmanj however well versed in the dialect of the 
 country." 
 
 "Whatever foundation this story may have in truth," 
 said the count, " the better informed are more fond of priding 
 themselves upon the address of Giovanni di Procida'in bring- 
 ing about that sanguinary event. He went to Constantino- 
 ple, and informed the emperor that it was the intention of 
 Charles of Anjou to attack that city, and recommended him 
 to furnish funds to the Sicilians to aid their proposed revo- 
 lution, which would divert the arms of Charles from him- 
 self The assistance being promised, he returned to Sicily, 
 and engaged a confederacy of noblemen to relinquish the 
 island to the King of Arragon. With the contract in his 
 bosom, he then repaired to Kome, and obtained the written 
 sanction of the pope. Then visiting Peter of Arragon, he 
 easily persuaded him to proceed with a fleet to the Mediter- 
 ranean, and await the rising of the Sicilians, to seize upon the 
 island. Giovanni then returned here, and completed the ar- 
 rangement, which terminated in the Sicilian Vespers. This 
 master-stroke of policy, by which the several powers were so 
 artfully deceived, and the cruel Charles overthrown, has ever 
 been highly appreciated — for cunning is a weapon of the 
 value of which the Sicilians entertain a deep sense. The ex- 
 ploit of this diplomatist has formed the subject of several 
 tragedies, the best of which was written by Niccolini of 
 Florence." 
 
 "But have you no talented authors?" inquired Isabel. 
 
 " Sicilian literature is at present in a very low state. The 
 strict censorship exercised over the press is alone sufficient 
 to damp the ambition of those best fitted to do honor to their 
 country through its medium. Our national poet is Meli. 
 
126 SICILY. 
 
 His poems are of a pastoral character, descriptive of the 
 beauties of the country, and filled with the most accurate 
 pictures of peasant life. To one who understands the Sicilian 
 dialect, his writings abound in graphic beauty. He paints 
 altogether from nature, and has fulfilled to the scenery and 
 manners of Sicily the same office of poetical, jQt true inter- 
 pretation* which Burns has to those of Scotland. Many of 
 his idyls are in circulation orally among the common people, 
 and all classes glory in his fame. There are many mediocre 
 writers, but the generality who have a taste for intellectual 
 pursuits turn their attention to antiquarian researches or 
 scientific studies. Some have contributed, as magazine wri- 
 ters and historians, minor pieces of some merit to the meagre 
 stock of Sicilian literature. These are written in Italian. 
 But it is useless to expect great literary results among a 
 people so situated and educated. It is only where a sphere 
 is open, and education general, that the foundation may be 
 laid and the motive afforded for literary development. Men 
 are then interested in the mental cultivation of their chil- 
 dren's minds ; a nation of readers springs up, and there will 
 be writers to meet their wants." 
 
 '• And it is not only thus with literature," said Frazier ; 
 " the low estimation in which integrity — that key-stone of the 
 social arch — is held, may be traced to want of reverence for 
 those primary ties which form the basis of every community. 
 In a country where wine and oil, fruits, grain, and minerals, 
 are so abundantly produced — where crops, by judicious culti- 
 vation, might be trebled — where there are such excellent fa- 
 cilities for commerce and fisheries, the want of prosperity 
 cannot be ascribed to the absence of natural advantages." 
 
 " No," replied the count, " the existing poverty of this 
 beautiful island, which Cicero called the granary of Rome, is 
 chiefly attributed to inherited evils of government, and habits 
 
DISCUSSION. 127 
 
 of idleness, and vice, a disproportionate nobility, a pampered 
 priesthood, and an utterly unenlightened lower order. One 
 of the immediate causes of the reduced circumstances of the 
 higher rank of Sicilians is the change made about twenty 
 years since in the law of primogeniture. The property which 
 then enabled the eldest sou to live in splendor is now dis- 
 tributed among all the children, and being etill farther subdi- 
 vided by marriages, reduces the fortunes of the barons to a 
 score of slender patrimonies. The immense tax upon landed 
 property is another drain upon their resources. The earnings 
 of the common people are half consumed by gambling. The 
 royal lottery is constructed on such a scale as to allow the 
 hazard of the smallest sums, with a proportionate prize in 
 prospect. They generally select numbers from the intima- 
 tion of dreams." 
 
 " I fancied a half-hour's walk the other morning,'' rejoined 
 Frazier, "afforded me a tolerable idea of the state of things. 
 A delicate-looking child begged a bioch ; I was passing on, 
 when my servant urged me to regard the petitioner ; ' for, 
 eccellenza,' said he, ' it is the son of a marquis, who has lost 
 his all in lawsuits.' A moment after we encountered a pale, 
 bright-eyed boy, going to school. 'What do you study?' I 
 asked. ' The life of St. Luigi, signor.' 
 
 '• We passed through a market-place. I saw people of 
 respectable appearance buying everything for the day's use, 
 even to the charcoal for cooking and the oil for the night's 
 burning. I never knew what living from hand to mouth 
 meant before." 
 
 They were interrupted by one of those visits to which 
 every traveller is exposed. An agate merchant asked leave 
 to display his rare specimen. A Franciscan monk tendered 
 some fine olives, the produce of his convent-garden, and 
 begged an eleemosynary remembrance ; while a picture-dealer 
 
128 SICILY. 
 
 brought a long roll of certificates, to prove that the Madonna 
 he offered for sale was a genuine Monrealease. At length 
 the several claims of these personages were considered, and 
 they bowed themselves out of the room, after bestowing more 
 titles upon the kind-hearted republican than in his whole life 
 he had been honored with before. 
 
 " If these people had more to do," said he, " they would 
 not be so prodigal of their compliments." 
 
 " Nay, uncle," said Isabel, "there is certainly a kindliness 
 in their greetings which might well be adopted by our more 
 laconic people. I knov/ that the blessing they invoke when 
 one sneezes, their wishes for a good appetite and pleasant 
 slumber, their excellenzas^ and exaggerated epithets of wel- 
 come and reverence, are often subjects of ridicule, but in a 
 broad view are they not gratifying ?" 
 
 "Yes," replied the count; " may we not exclaim, with 
 Sterne, ' Hail, ye small, sweet courtesies of life, for sweet do 
 you make the road of it?' I think we may justly consider 
 one of the redeeming traits of the Sicilian character — a spon- 
 taneous regard, a sentiment of attachment, and an interest in 
 others, the very semblance of which is cheering to the heart. 
 An American, in judging of European character, should bear 
 in mind the circumstances of his own country. The restless 
 energies of a young nation have been unfolding around him. 
 He has been encircled by the machinery of an advancing civ- 
 ilization. He has been witnessing the phenomena of national 
 growth. He has lived amid the excitement of constant ex- 
 periments. He has been listening to the warfare of un- 
 shackled opinion. The spirit of society around him has been 
 nicely regulated and duly restrained ; social intercourse 
 checked by mutual reserve ; and the expression of feeling 
 restricted by custom, graduated by rule, and chilled by the 
 influence of a northern clime, as well as a calmer national 
 
DISCUSSION 129 
 
 temperament. Here he is environed by a people wedded to 
 the customs of past ages, unfamiliar with many of the im- 
 provements of the day, and, in some of the arrangements of 
 life, far behind the age in which they live ; where time is 
 still reckoned b}' the primitive method, where the lottery 
 courier outstrips the post, and the balcony takes the place 
 of the fireside ;' a people who display emotion with the free- 
 dom of children, who observe much and reflect little, who 
 enter with childlike eagerness into gaiety, and, at every age, 
 court the pleasures of companionship with the ardor of youth. 
 And who shall say to what extent these diversities are at- 
 tributable in the one nation to freedom and prosperity, 
 and in the other to political depression, and that hopeless 
 and anti-progressive state into which the prospects of in- 
 dividuals are thrown by a long series of despotic influen- 
 ces? Men are generally thoughtful as they have responsi- 
 bilities, and energetic in proportion to their hopes. If the 
 quickness of apprehension and general talents of the Sicilians 
 were balanced by reflection, and cultivated by education, they 
 would become a distinguished people. You may now witness 
 an aptitude for intrigue displayed in compassing some trivial 
 end, which, if properly directed, might form admirable scien- 
 tific professors, or diplomatic characters. They understand 
 a foreigner with remarkable readiness; they converse with 
 their eyes and* expressive gestures with astonishing tact. 
 They are sanguinary under the influence of passion, but kind 
 when in the least encouraired. In such a character there are 
 elements of untried force and progress." 
 
 6* 
 
%u fpisah. 
 
 The low, the deep, the pleading tone 
 
 With which he told another's love, 
 
 Interpreted his own. Genevieve. 
 
 COMMEND me to travel as tLe occasion of love. The 
 crowded assembly and the fashionable promenade are 
 alike inimical to that free expression of thought and natural 
 flow of feeling, through which alone the points of sympathy 
 are discoverable. It is true, that in these scenes the first 
 impression is often made which eventuates in attachment ; 
 but amid them the best gifts of intellect, and the finest traits 
 of sentiment, are too frequently veiled by an artificial man- 
 ner, or concealed beneath the many external graces which it 
 is the office of fashion to call forth. When, kowever, we feel 
 ourselves sejDarated for a while from the restraints of general 
 society, and exposed to the free influence of nature and the 
 incitement of variety, we resume our. original, native spirit, 
 and think, act, and feel with renewed energ}'' and truth. Few 
 situations, therefore, are more conducive to the mutual devel- 
 opment of character than that of two companions travelling 
 together through scenes of interest and beauty. Mingling 
 their admiration in view of each novel object, suifering the 
 
AN EPISODE. 131 
 
 same inconveniences, exposed to the same dangers, and for 
 days dependent upon each other's society for solace and 
 amusement — if even a spark of congeniality exist, such aus- 
 picious circumstances will fan it to a flame. The recorded 
 conversations of Isabel and the count have been of a general 
 character. Yet, in the course of these interviews, glances 
 and tones had been exchanged, which a more imaginative ob- 
 server than Frazier could not have foiled to interpret into 
 indications of a regard, somewhat deeper and more perma- 
 nent than mere intellectual sympathy. Still no direct or 
 positive expression had been given to the sentiment which 
 had insensibly usurped the place of friendship. Ilappy in 
 the daily interchange of mind which her present circumstan- 
 ces permitted, Isabel thought of the future only with refer- 
 ence to her father, while she was unconsciously cherishing, 
 or rather allowing to flourish in her breast, another affection 
 calculated to ennoble or embitter her whole future life. But 
 the count, whose consciousness was not dazzled by an antici- 
 pation such as filled the mental vision of his fair companion, 
 had long since confessed to himself that she had in.«pired an 
 interest too earnest to be easily overcome, and too delightful 
 not to be indulged ; and, although he had determined to post- 
 pone, until the conclusion of their pilgrimage, any declaration 
 of his feelings, they were ere long incidentally elicited. On 
 a warm but delightful evening, the little party were present 
 at a co?iversazione, at one of the most beautiful villas in the 
 vicinity of Palermo. Its somewhat elevated position ren- 
 dered the view from the balconies extensive and various, 
 while the neighborhood of the mountains and sea exposed it 
 to every breeze which might stir the quiet atmosphere of 
 summer. The house was situated at some distance from the 
 road, and behind it a spacious garden was tastefully laid out. 
 After passing several hours in the crowded rooms, Isabel 
 
132 SICILY. 
 
 gladly accepted the count's invitation to repair to the gar- 
 den, where many of the guests were promenading. They fol- 
 lowed a path shaded by the embowering branches of the 
 orange-trees, through which the moonlight fell in chequered 
 lines upon the walk. At its extremity, near a small foun- 
 tain, were several marble benches. As they approached, Isa- 
 bel ardently expressed her delight at the picturesque charms 
 of the retreat ; and, when they w-ere seated, the count related 
 the following anecdote : 
 
 THE SECOND COURTSHIP. 
 
 " The former proprietor of this villa was a most elegant 
 and interesting man. In his youth he had passed several 
 years in Great Britain, and returned to his native city at the 
 period when the English had possession of the island. As 
 he spoke their language perfectly, and was an intelligent and 
 agreeable companion, there was no Sicilian more frequently 
 to be found in their circles, or one who was more deservedly 
 popular among them. At that time there was residing in 
 Palermo, the ward of an English officer, committed to his 
 care by her father, an old friend, who died many years pre- 
 vious in England. Caroline Walter was not only beautiful, 
 but so fascinating in her manners, that she was the object of 
 universal admiration. To the extreme mortification of many 
 of her countrymen, she received, without displeasure, the 
 marked attentions of Palma, the inheritor of this beautiful 
 domain. They were, in truth, admirably fitted for each other. 
 His chief fault was an impetuosity of feeling, which some- 
 times urged him into acts of foolish .precipitancy ; but in 
 mind and principle he was infinitely superior to the general- 
 ity of his countrymen, and it was the virtues of Caroline 
 Walter, not less than her personal graces, which had won his 
 
AN EPISODE. 133 
 
 heart. You are aware of the inveterate prejudice which the 
 English entertain towards foreigners ; and you must have per- 
 ceived how strongly it is cherished in the case of the Sicil- 
 ians. There are, indeed, discrepancies of temperament and 
 character between the two people to account for, if not to 
 justify, some degree of such a feeling ; and the want of edu- 
 cation, and the moral degradation too prevalent among the 
 inhabitants of this island, is sufficient to explain the little 
 favor they find in the eyes of one of the most enlightened 
 nations of the earth. But this, like all other prejudices, is 
 too indiscriminate, and therefore unworthy of being enter- 
 tained by any liberal or philosophical mind. The known 
 virtues of Palma did not weigh with the friends of Caroline 
 Walter. She was assailed on every side and in every man- 
 ner, to induce her to renounce her lover, because he was a 
 Sicilian, but in vain. She could not appreciate the argu- 
 ment ; and having found him honorable, gifted, and especially 
 possessed of tastes and sentiments accordant with her own, 
 she hesitated not to reciprocate his ardent and disinterested 
 attachment. After their marriage they were for a short 
 time absent upon the continent, and then returned hither, 
 and established themselves at this villa. The sight of 
 their domestic enjoyment re-awakened disappointment in the 
 breasts of some of the j^oung English officers — and there 
 were two of them especially, who resolved, if possible, to 
 disturb the happiness which they had not the magnanimity 
 to rejoice in. How to sow the seeds of discord where har- 
 mony was so complete, was a question they could not easily 
 solve. To attempt to impair the confidence of the wife they 
 knew would be vain, and, moreover, there was a dignity and 
 independent superiority in her character which awed them 
 into silent respect. Unfortunately, they were aware of the 
 weakness of Palma. and upon this they determined to play. 
 
134 SICILY 
 
 Industriously circulating reports that Lis wife repented of 
 lier connection, they took measures that not a day should 
 pass but some insinuation reached his ears, calculated to ex- 
 cite that jealousy which belongs to the Sicilian temperament. 
 For a long time these rumors affected him not. He knew 
 the propensity of his countrymen for scandal ; and if for a 
 moment a doubt had darkened his mind, one glimpse at the 
 ingenuous and noble countenance of his lovely wife, or a sin- 
 gle tone of her sweet welcome, dispelled it in a moment. 
 One day, however, when several English officers, and among 
 them the two hypocrites, were dining here, one of them, after 
 the repast, took Palma aside, and after extorting many prom- 
 ises of secresy, and making innumerable professions of friend- 
 ship, like a second lago, advised him to watch narrowly, lest 
 his domestic peace was invaded. This ambiguous warning, 
 conveyed thus solemnly, alarmed Palma. He returned 
 thoughtfully towards the house. Caroline's joyous laugh 
 reached his ear. For the first time there was something un- 
 musical in it. He raised his eyes to yonder terrace, and saw 
 her promenading, and apparently in the pleasantest conversa- 
 tion, with the accomplice of him who had just poisoned his ear, 
 and who no sooner caught a glimpse of his host than he threw 
 into his manner as great an air of confidence and familiarity 
 as possible. This little incident, though of no importance 
 in itself, served to irritate Palma into a fit of jealous musing. 
 Surmises, as baseless as air, were brooded over till they 
 grew into positive doubts beneath the fructifying influence of 
 a southern imagination. And when the visitors had departed, 
 in a moment of passion he appeared before his astonished 
 wife, and charging her with having deceived and lost all affec- 
 tion for him, if, indeed, she ever had any, rushed from her 
 presence, drove rapidly to town, and embarked that very eve- 
 ning in a steam-packet for Malta Mount Pelegrino had not 
 
AN EPmODE. 135 
 
 faded from his sight before he regretted the step he had 
 taken. His self-reproaches were increased to agony, when an 
 acquaintance, one of his fellow-passengers, after warmly eulo- 
 gizing his wife, began to praise his forbearance towards those 
 who endeavored to mar his happiness in order to gratify their 
 spleen. All at once he saw his error, and mourned over his 
 precipitancy. In three days he returned to Palermo, and 
 sought this retreat, where his injured wife was secluded. He 
 longed to throw himself at her feet and demand forgiveness ; 
 but so great was his mortification, and so unpardonable, in 
 his own eyes, seemed his conduct, that he had not the cour- 
 age to approach her. He remembered the sad look of silent 
 yet eloquent reproach with which she had gazed upon him as 
 he left her presence. He recalled the pride of her character, 
 and dreaded the effect of his weak and violent behavior. He 
 knew not but her^ esteem for him had gone forever. In this 
 state of indecision and perplexity he remained for several 
 days in the neighborhood. One afternoon, towards dusk, he 
 approached the house, and saw Caroline seated near the win- 
 dow, but as he drew near she abruptly left the spot. He be- 
 lieved she had recognized, and thus purposely avoided him. 
 The next evening he again approached. She was in the same 
 place, and half rose as he drew near, but perceiving him pass 
 the door, she remained, and formally returned his proffered 
 recognition. His impression then was that she thought him 
 insane. In short, I cannot tell you by what gradual steps 
 he progressed towards a reconciliation. No lover, for the 
 first time delicately shaping his way to the heart of his mis- 
 tress, could have acted more timidly, or been more trem- 
 blingly alive to every faint indication of success. It was, 
 in truth, a second courtship. At last, one lovely evening, 
 such as this, he threw off the cloak which had hitherto con- 
 cealed him from observation, and entering that grove just 
 
136 SICILY 
 
 opposite his wife's balcony, began to sing several of her favor- 
 ite airs in a feigned voice. There lived in the neighborhood 
 an old blind man, who had frequently amused them in this 
 manner, and he knew she would come to the terrace to throw 
 him the customary gratuity. After a short time, he heard 
 the window open, and saw her step forth into the moonlight. 
 It was the first time he had seen her distinctly since their 
 separation. She was paler than usual, and a sad expression 
 mellowed into pensive beauty the spirited loveliness of her 
 countenance. She leaned over the rail, and seemed about to 
 call the unseen vocalist, when he, anticipating her purpose, 
 slightly softening his voice, commenced an Italian air which 
 they had often sang together. The half-uttered word died 
 on her lips, she stood still and listened, and presently, as if 
 overcome by the associations thus awakened, the tears fell 
 thick and fast from her eyes. The repentant husband saw 
 that the favorable moment had arrived. He suddenly paused, 
 and struck at once, with his natural voice, into a little Eng- 
 lish song of his own composition, with which he had serena- 
 ded her on the night when they first exchanged vows of eter- 
 nal fidelity. At the first tone of that well-known voice she 
 started, and turned towards the open window ; but as the 
 feeling notes rolled on, she paused, as if entranced, and, as 
 the last stanza was concluded, he sprang from his conceal- 
 ment, and was on the terrace and at her feet in a moment. 
 He was forgiven ; and the stream of aff'ection, thus tempora- 
 rily divided, re-united with new- force and a more gladsome 
 murmur, and flows on in rich and fertilizing beauty to this 
 hour." 
 
 When the count had related this story, Isabel begged to 
 hear the song which had been the occasion of so happy a re- 
 union. The scattered guests had left the walks to attend a 
 summons to the refreshment room. The music from the 
 
AN EPISODE. 137 
 
 saloon stole with a softened cadence through the trees ; and 
 occasionally the laugh of some light-hearted being near one 
 of the windows reached their ears ; but otherwise the garden 
 was so quiet, that the silvery dripping of the fountain sounded 
 clearly in the pauses of their conversation. Isabel, in her 
 white dress, and with her luxuriant hair arranged with beau- 
 tiful simplicity, and her expressive features radiating the 
 quiet happiness which the scene inspired, had never appeared 
 more lovely in the eyes of Yittorio ; and he threw into his 
 voice an expression of earnestness, eloquently indicative of 
 the secret emotions he cherished. 
 
 THE SONG OF THE FOREIGN LOVER. 
 
 " Yes, 'tis true thine eyes are azure, 
 
 And thy brow is pale and high ; 
 And 'tis true thy golden tresses 
 
 Bespeak a northern sky, 
 I know thy kindred live afar, 
 
 Where the ancestral tree 
 Waves greenly o'er their dwelling, 
 
 Beyond the sparkling sea. 
 
 " Yet if a darker orb replies 
 Most earnestly to thine, 
 And ebon locks bow truthfully 
 
 Before thy beauty's shrine ; 
 And if the accents of the South 
 Breathe love's sincerest tone. 
 Why wilt thou still remember 
 This land is not thy own 1 
 
 " Are not the kindred of the heart 
 
 More blest than ties of birth 1 
 And the spot affection brightens 
 
 Dearer than native earth 1 
 Love, lady, hallows every clime 
 
 To which his children roam, 
 And with him for a household god, 
 
 All places will be home." 
 
138 SICILY. 
 
 Shelley has somewhere compared the effect of an impas- 
 sioned sentiment to '• the voice of one beloved singing to you 
 alone." He understood the poetry of the heart. The scene 
 and its associations entirely overcame the previous resolu- 
 tions of Vittorio, and when Isabel quietly thanked him, and 
 rose to return to the house, he gave earnest expression to his 
 attachment. That hour was like an age in the history of her 
 feelings. But she replied by calmly alluding to the object 
 of her pilgrimage, and declared, that until that was accom- 
 plished, she could not listen to a word on the subject. Yet 
 her manner, her look, was enough to satisfy Vittorio, and 
 when he rejoined the conversazione^ it was with the delightful 
 conviction of possessing her affections. 
 
€^t ^M nni 3|irrsBut. 
 
 It is the past 
 Contending with the present ; and, by turns, 
 Each has the mastery. Rogers. 
 
 FEW evidences of decay arc more striking than those 
 which mark the estates and arrangements of an impover- 
 ished nobility. A ruin that speaks of a bygone people, how- 
 ever it may awaken reflection, calls for little exertion or 
 sympathy. Those to whose pride or comfort it originally 
 ministered have long since departed. There is no lone mem- 
 ber of the race to sigh over the ashes of past magnificence 
 The material fabric has survived its founder, and, in its ivy- 
 buried ruins, serves but to remind us of antiquity. It is 
 otherwise with the memorials of less ancient times. TVe can- 
 not see the descendant of a once wealthy nobility, lingering 
 about the time-worn and poverty-stricken home of his fathers, 
 without a keen sense of the vanity of human grandeur. We 
 cannot witness the vain struggles of a penniless nobleman to 
 preserve the appearance of ancient splendor, without realizing 
 the changeful moods of fortune. And when somethins; of 
 high and chivalrous sentiment ennobles the unfortunate in- 
 heritor of a title, without the means of supporting its dignity, 
 
140 SICILY. 
 
 our compassion is instinctively awakened. We feel something 
 of that pity which the tale of young Ravenswood's bitter 
 reveries in the deserted mansion of his ancestors excites in 
 the breast. There is a strong appeal to our feelings in the 
 sight of one, who, with the ambition, has outlived the glory 
 of his house. Although the aggravation of elevated feelings 
 may not often increase the mortification of the poor nobility 
 of the island, yet many evidences of their fallen lot are ob- 
 servable in Sicily. As the stranger threads the crowded 
 thoroughfares of Palermo, he continually sees the high fronts 
 of palaces, blackened by age. Iron-wrought balconies pro- 
 trude from the spacious windows, and tufts of weed or lines 
 of mould indicate the ravages of neglect. Some of these ex- 
 tensive buildings are tenanted by a score of families, who oc- 
 cupy the difiierent ranges of apartments, while others are still 
 inhabited by the descendants of the original proprietors ; but 
 very few are able to preserve a style of living corresponding 
 with the grandeur of their dwellings. More frequently, upon 
 entering these palaces, the visitor will pass through long suits 
 of lofty rooms, with richly-painted walls and brightly-tiled 
 floors — cold, bare, and deserted. In some distant chamber, 
 perchance, he will find the occupant seated in a massive old 
 chair, a deer-skin beneath his feet, and his snuff-box in hand, 
 pondering upon the changes of some proposed game at hazard, 
 or the best manner of once more evading some long-deferred 
 obligation. It would rouse the very hearts of the old nobility 
 to catch a glimpse of some of their proud abodes, and see 
 halls adorned with the richest frescos and marbles, tenanted 
 by the most plebeian citizens, converted into magazines for 
 foreign merchants, or consigned to the destructive hand of 
 abandonment and decay. 
 
 Not only within the city did these objects afford occasion 
 to Frazier for grave reflections on the utility of republicanism, 
 
THE PAST AND PRESENT. HI 
 
 and incite Isabel's fancy to picture the past. Bagaria, in the 
 environs, was a favorite resort of the wealthy Palermitans, in 
 the season when the country is most inviting. The road 
 thither lies along the sea, over a fertile plain thickly studded 
 with olive and cypress trees, amid which the pleasant seats 
 are finely located. Some of the rich worthies who were wont 
 to retire to this delightful spot, must have been endowed with 
 whimsical taste, if we may judge by the ornaments of their 
 estates. One especially amused Isabel, and provoked the 
 anger of Frazier at what he pleased to term the ridiculous 
 extravagance of the proprietor. Around the roofs of the 
 offices, and wherever an opportunity occurs on the main 
 building, are figures carved in stone, of every imaginable 
 form — monsters, deformed beasts, and grotesque men. Within 
 the palace is a room, the walls of which are wrought, in glass 
 of different hues, into various devices, while the ceiling is 
 composed of mirrors. Although much of this fantastic work 
 is dimmed and mutilated, the effect, when the apartment is 
 illuminated, must be curious and brilliant. An adjoining and 
 more spacious saloon, walled and floored with the finest mar- 
 ble, is, however, more worthy of admiration. The clear, fresh 
 hues of this princely material, from which, at intervals, start 
 forth the statues and basso-relievos which vary its surface, 
 and the brightly-polished floors, combine to convey an im- 
 pression of strength, richness, and splendor much more pleas- 
 ing than the gaudy and peculiar chamber adjacent. The 
 furniture of many of the rooms in these decayed palaces re- 
 mains very much as the more prosperous occupant left it ; 
 and, wearied with their wanderings through the cold halls, 
 the visitors were glad to. rest in the antiquely-embroidered 
 chairs. 
 
 " Look around upon these ancient portraits," said Vittorio. 
 " How little thought the proud noble who had his paternal 
 
142 SICILY. 
 
 walls thus decorated, that they would, in a few short years, 
 become the gaze of strangers. This fine-looking old gentle- 
 man, and that lady in the dress of olden time, have doubtless 
 often breakfasted in this very apartment, perhaps at that little 
 tortoise-shell table. I delight to invoke the past, and the 
 quiet and venerable air around us is favorable to such a pas- 
 time. Let us imagine this stately couple in the days of their 
 pride. Hither they came on the first summer after their 
 bridal. Nature wore an aspect of unwonted beauty, for she 
 was beheld in the light of young love. Here, perhaps, the 
 cheerful morning smiled upon their sweet councils, as the 
 day's pic-nic, or the evening's co?iversazione^ was laughingly 
 planned. From this window they gazed into the deepening 
 twilight, and silently imbibed the spell of that hour in glad- 
 ness of spirit. Yonder hall, perhaps, witnessed the early 
 triumphs of the young bride in the circles of society. There 
 sped the dance and coursed the jest till early dawn. Years 
 rolled away, and the saloon which had beheld the rich content 
 of afiection echoed to the restless tread of ambition. A new 
 epoch of life had arrived. The love of companionship and 
 pleasure had become merged in a thirst for power. He sought 
 it in political schemes ; she, in the petty rivalries of her 
 courtly acquaintance. Time passed on ; and at length, at 
 the accustomed season, one only came hither, and in mourn- 
 ing weeds, and soon returned no more. The paths of the 
 once neatly-kept garden are grass-grown. The throng of 
 liveried servants have dwindled to a few ill-clad menials. The 
 chorus of the banquet-song has long since died away. The 
 ornamental devices, upon which so much pains were lavished, 
 serve only to amuse the curious traveller ; and their proud 
 originator is forgotten. Such is human history !" 
 
 There is a summer-house attached to one of the villas at 
 Bagaria, fitted up in imitation of a convent. The figures, dis- 
 
THE PAST AND F RE SENT. 143 
 
 posed in diflferent cells, are not ill-executed in wax. Age, 
 however, has diminished their life-like hues. The order rep- 
 resented is that of La Trappe, and the whole is intended to 
 memorialize the story of Adelaide and Commegio, the cloister 
 lovers. The fondness for amusement which, at an earlier 
 period, dictated these fantasies, still lives in the hearts of the 
 Palermitans, although the means for its gratification have so 
 much diminished ; and, on the evening of the day that our 
 travellers had visited this scene of former grandeur, they 
 found themselves in the midst of one of the festive diversions, 
 still occasionally indulged in by the restricted nobles. In 
 observance of the last da}' of Carnival, one of the extensive 
 rooms of the Koyal Theatre was illuminated, and crowded 
 with the gay attendants on a Festa di Ballo. Minor apart- 
 ments were arranged for conversation and refreshments ; 
 and, after the opera, the theatre itself was thrown open to 
 the dancers, while the boxes were appropriated to those who 
 preferred being spectators : and here entertainments were 
 richly served to select parties of friends. One can scarcely 
 fancy a more gay sight than the wide area of an European 
 theatre converted into a ball-room, while the tiers of dress- 
 boxes present the lively appearance of so many little banquet- 
 rooms. The most novel feature of the scene, however, to 
 Isabel, was the fancy costumes. To the sound of martial 
 music, the personators of various characters marched in pro- 
 cession from an adjoining chamber into the saloon. Then, 
 as they divided and mingled with the crowd, the rich colors 
 of their foreign garbs were displayed in dazzling relief; and 
 as Isabel, in her wanderings, suddenly encountered the ha- 
 biliments of some personages dear to memory, she caught 
 momentarily that romantic impression which these amuse- 
 ments, when successfully managed, are well calculated to 
 convey. But the illusion was too often dispelled b}'' the 
 
144 SICILY, 
 
 ludicrous grouping of the characters, or some remark of 
 Vittorio, whose eye pierced the velvet doublet and the em- 
 broidered vest, and read much more of actual character than 
 was visible to the strangers. 
 
 " That tall and graceful figure, in the splendid attire of 
 Queen Elizabeth's courtiers, is intended for the Earl of Lei- 
 cester. But look at his boyish face and eye, never lighted 
 by any fire but that of earth-born passion, and picture, if you 
 can, such an expression upon the lips and brow of the gallant 
 earl. And who would suppose the mincing young lady 
 hanging upon his arm could have the assurance to represent 
 Amy Robsart ?" 
 
 " There, however," said Isabel, '• is a face and form in 
 keeping with the costume. Those masses of light hair so 
 gracefully arranged, that pale and quiet, though lovely face, 
 the sad gentleness of the expression, the subdued movement, 
 all betoken Parasina." 
 
 They joined the spectators, surrounding a large party of 
 waltzers. The combinations were not a little amusing. Here 
 the Sultan Seyd, with his wide turban and dazzling arms, 
 was whirling round a Swiss peasant girl. There a fat Tartar, 
 with enormous mustachios, tripped away with the Bride of 
 Abydos. A young Greek girl was the partner of a Spanish 
 cavalier, with black hat and ebon plume ; and a Turk, flash- 
 ing with jewels and brightly-dyed merino, gravely twirled 
 round the circle a smiling maiden in deep mourning. 
 
 To minds utterly unlearned in the experience of the 
 deeper and more refined sentiments, there is a strangeness 
 altogether inexplicable in the impressions of an idealist. They 
 cannot comprehend any but the most superficial suggestions 
 of the natural or human world. In their view, there is a de- 
 gree of singularity, approaching to mental disease, in the idea 
 of a young person finding congenial pleasure in observing 
 
THE PAST AND PRESENT. 145 
 
 such a scene as was now displayed to Isabel in the mere light 
 of fancy and reflection. Yet thus did it present itself to her 
 eye. She thought of the various fortunes of the seemingly 
 joyous multitude, of the hidden passions, the concealed cares, 
 the petty emulation, and the secret hopes, lying beneath the 
 sparkling tide of festivity, which mortals so love to gather 
 over their individual conditions, and merge, as it were, in one 
 brilliant illusion, though but for a single night, the corroding 
 memories and present troubles which darken their lot. There 
 is rich material for imagination to weave into golden tissues, 
 and philosophy to color with the light and shade of her im- 
 pressive pencil, in the variety, the loveliness, the mannerism 
 of a festival. What is the throb of pleasure which fills the 
 pulses of the most eager partaker in the hilarity, to the calm 
 delight of the musing spectator of the pastime ? Lightly 
 glides the fairy form through the mazes of the dance ; bril- 
 liantly sparkles the jewel in the waving hair ; but more 
 swiftly speeds the thoughts of the visionary, and brighter 
 gleams his fancy's glance, as, excited by the symbols of hu- 
 man joy, it roams amid the labyrinths of destiny. 0, there 
 are rare gleanings for the speculative in a ball-room, barren 
 as of all places it is deemed by the stoic and the misanthrope ! 
 Poets have spoken of a peculiar inspiration which breathes 
 from the Spring-awakened life of Nature, of an intoxicating 
 pleasure caught from the hum of new-born insects and open- 
 ing vegetation. So, to him who sympathizes fervently with 
 his race, there is an excitement in the sight of a gala, a social 
 expression of enjoyment beyond mere sympathy in the gaiety 
 of which it is the type, beyond and independent of it. And 
 if a stranger be thus surrounded by a festive multitude, his 
 thoughts, thrown back upon himself, do but engender a more 
 sad, but perhaps a deeper reverie. He recalls the spontaneous 
 delight of childhood. He pictures the contrast between 
 
 7 
 
146 SICILY. 
 
 present appearances and actual realities. He reads in the 
 glowing faces around, in the interchange of looks, in the lan- 
 guage of manner, many a tale of love, hope, and disappoint- 
 ment. And in this there is poetry, not always fanciful and 
 bright, yet still poetry ; and Isabel felt it. 
 
 " Comer from the new world !" said the count to Frazier 
 (playfully yet with earnestness), " where the enervating civi- 
 lization of Europe has not yet triumphed, stand with me in 
 the embrasure of this window, and I will read you a ball- 
 room homily. Fifty years since, the female portion of the 
 nobility of which these are scions, were almost entirely un- 
 educated in aught save what are called accomplishments. 
 Many could neither read nor write. Now in some respects 
 there is an improvement ; in others a decline. Scarcely one 
 of these lovely hypocrites pretends to respect her marriage 
 
 vows. That cjueenly form in white is the Duchess of A ; 
 
 the young man vivaciously performing a lover's part beside 
 
 her is the Marquis , who a twelvemonth since married 
 
 that pale dark-eyed lady who is coquetting with the Duke of 
 
 A . The two are not estranged, for they never had a 
 
 feeling in common, except the desire to combine their in- 
 comes by marriage, that they might more freely follow their 
 respective pleasures. Saw you ever such a magnificent set 
 
 of diamonds as those in the hair of the Countess of ? 
 
 They are taken out of pawn for the occasion, at an enormous 
 expense. There is not a more gorgeous costume in the room 
 
 than that Prince is now displaying. Its purchase will 
 
 cost him a year's support, and swell the long list of his debts. 
 I see your eye wanders to that thoughtful-looking youth, 
 standing near the grave ofl&cer. They are fatlier and son. 
 The father derives his support solely from his commission. 
 The latter, at the university of Pisa, where he was educated, 
 contracted a strong friendship with some young Brazilians 
 
THE PAST AND PRESENT. 147 
 
 overflowing with the love of liberty. Their views were en- 
 thusiastically adopted by their Sicilian friend. He returned 
 an ardent republican, and his poor father is in continual dread, 
 lest, by some unguarded expression, he should incur the dis- 
 pleasure of government, and lose the old gentleman his office 
 and his family their only resource. His son himself fears it, 
 and petitions to go to England, where he may enjoy his lib- 
 eral principles in peace. But glance over the whole room. 
 Of all these young men, some of whom wear so spirited a 
 bearing, scarcely one knows any higher ambition than the 
 temporary distinctions which an occasion like this can gratify. 
 Among the whole circle of these women, you can with diffi- 
 culty find one deserving of the office, or capable of the duties 
 of a mother. And what better can you expect in a country 
 where the legitimate objects of reverence — parents and priests 
 — set an undisguised example of libertinism ? Is not the 
 unavoidable consequence among the higher ranks, practical 
 atheism? Comer from the new world ! look through the 
 finery around you ; pierce the artificial gloss ; read the evi- 
 dences of exhausted resources, unprincipled lives, and frivo- 
 lous pursuits, which make up the true history of society here, 
 and thank heaven your lot was cast in a j^oung republic." 
 
 There was a bitterness in the count's tones, which mel- 
 lowed into sadness as he concluded, that touched the heart 
 of Frazier. If there is any spectacle at once noble and af- 
 fecting, it is that of a young man whose moral sensibility is 
 wounded by his country's decline, who stands aloof from the 
 general corruption of manners, and mourns over it as he 
 would at a brother's dereliction ; and whose love of truth and 
 allegiance to virtue is more earnest than his national vanity. 
 Frazier felt a new and sincere respect for Vittorio. He re- 
 plied only by pressing his hand, and then stood lost in a rev- 
 erie which the conversation had awakened. "When he roused 
 
148 SICILY. 
 
 himself and turned to seek his friend, he was no longer be- 
 side him. A few moments passed in threading the dense 
 crowd, brought him again in view. He was sitting on an 
 ottoman in the adjoining apartment, every expression of pain- 
 ful thought banished from his fine countenance, eagerly listen- 
 ing to the words of Isabel. What a consoler is woman ! No 
 charm but her presence can so win man from his sorrow, 
 make placid the knit brow, and wreathe the stern lip into a 
 smile. The soldier becomes a lightsome boy at her feet ; the 
 anxious statesman smiles himself back to free-hearted youth 
 beside her ; and the still and shaded countenance of care 
 brightens beneath her influence, as the closed flower blooms 
 in the sunshine. 
 
$t^nk unit iBlintintiGm. 
 
 Thy fanes, thy temples, to thy surface bow, 
 Commingling slowly with heroic earth, 
 Broke by the share of every rustic plough ; 
 So perish monuments of mortal birth, 
 So perish all in turn, save well-recorded worth. 
 
 Childk Harold. 
 
 THE rainy season, after several fallacious intermissions, at 
 last terminated. Its long days of cliilly winds and heavy 
 sbowers, gloomy skies and damp atmosphere, more oppressive 
 to the absentee than the clear and exhilarating, though in- 
 tensely cold air of more northern winters, gave way, all at 
 once, to the genial breezes and burning sun of a Sicilian 
 spring. Anxiously had Isabel awaited these indications of 
 settled and auspicious weather, and no sooner did they appear 
 than she urged upon her companions the expediency of im- 
 mediately starting on an excursion into the interior, which 
 they had previously planned. Not without difficulty had she 
 persuaded her uncle to allow her to be the companion of his 
 visit to the celebrated antiquities in the adjoining provinces. 
 He knew that most of the journey was only to be performed 
 on horseback, and that much discomfort must be endured in 
 order to reach the desirable objects in view. But Isabel 
 
150 SICILY. 
 
 urged the short period requisite for the expedition, her great 
 desire to behold these trophies of antiquity, and that uncon- 
 querable spirit of enterprise and endurance which she had in- 
 herited from her father. These arguments were not without 
 their influence upon Frazier's mind, but another considera- 
 tion tended still more to win from him a, reluctant consent. 
 He saw that Isabel needed the excitement of change. He 
 remarked, during the many weeks of rain which had followed 
 the first bright month of their sojourn in Palermo, that her 
 thoughts, thrown inward by the outer gloom, which often 
 made her an unwilling prisoner at home, dwelt more ear- 
 nestly, and with less of hope, upon the idea that had drawn 
 her abroad. Her cheek had paled ; her eye was less cheer- 
 ful ; and the tones of her gentle voice, never trained to aught 
 but the ingenuous responses of the spirit, broke forth in a 
 less buoyant and heart-stirring music than was their wont. 
 He knew that a few days of free communion with Nature, a 
 short interval of novel observation, and even the brief court- 
 ing of fatigue and inconvenience, would do much to divert 
 and relieve her melancholy. Provided, therefore, with means 
 and appliances almost equal to those with which caravans 
 enter the precincts of some desert region, they prepared for 
 a short visit to the interior of Sicily. To Isabel the change 
 of scene was delightful. 0, thou enlivener of our faculties 
 stupefied by the monotonous circuit of still life — thou reviver 
 of slumbering feelings — thou awakener of thought — thou 
 restless spirit of travel ! how much dost thou lead us volun- 
 tarily to suifer, how many pleasant blessings to sacrifice, how 
 many penances to inflict freely upon ourselves ! Urged by 
 thee, we dare the perils of the sea, and go from the serene 
 safety of home to the hazardous highway of the world. We 
 abjure the families, the well-tried, and the well-known, the 
 attached friends, the accustomed scenes, and the cherishing 
 
SEGESTA AND SELINUNTIUM. 151 
 
 kindred, and we go forth to begin life, as it were, anew, to 
 make ourselves homes abroad, to commune with foreign lands 
 and customs, to take upon ourselves the cheerless name, and 
 the lonely lot "of the stranger. Yet art thou a consolation 
 and a noble teacher, restless spirit as thou art. Guided and 
 impelled by thee, how much do we learn ! How do our 
 minds expand with liberality that can see good in all things 
 and with love that can find brotherhood in every human be- 
 ing ; how do we draw principles from the mingled teachings 
 of nature and society, as their united voices variously and 
 eloquently cry to us on our pilgrim path ! We study the 
 great volume of the world and of creation, not according to 
 some narrow and local interpretation, but as cosmopolites, as 
 humanitarians, as men. We weave ties of fellowship and 
 love, beautiful because so wholly our own work — the result 
 of the contact of our own natures with what is congenial in 
 spirit, though in habit and circumstance utterly foreign. We 
 thus realize the compass of our minds, the power of our affec- 
 tions, and the illimitable capacity of our sympathies. Alas ! 
 that the sweet bonds with which the solitary sojourner binds 
 himself to the warm-hearted and the fair of other lands, to 
 the beings who, in each abiding-place, cheer him with kind- 
 ness, and solace him with affection, should be so transient ; 
 that just as a home-feeling steals over him, he must renew 
 his pilgrimage ; that at the moment his heart has made unto 
 itself glad fellowship, he must become again a wayfarer ! 
 This, to the true-hearted and the grateful, is the greatest 
 sacrifice which travel demands of its votaries, the most severe 
 tribute which he lays upon her altar ; for all of comfort and 
 safety that he has foregone fades quickly from memory, but 
 the obligations of the mind and heart are never forgotten. 
 
 Thus felt Isabel as she looked back from Monreale upon 
 the valley, sea, and city, amid which she had so long tarried. 
 
152 SICILY. 
 
 And the painful sense wliicli ever accompanies the idea of 
 parting, faded not from her mind, until after a long ride 
 among the hills, whose aspect was rather wild and rocky, they 
 emerged from between two rugged cliffs, and came suddenly 
 in view of the green valley of Partinico, spreading from the 
 sea in the same fertility of aspect and level expanse which 
 distinguish the plain around the capital. The remainder of 
 the carriage-road winds through a country resembling, in 
 every essential feature, that which they had passed in pre- 
 vious journeyings. Still the olive-trees rose thickly in the 
 fields, their ancient and gnarled stumps bearing in sturdy 
 pride the thick and dim mass of foliage, nourished most mys- 
 teriously, it would sometimes seem, through the narrowest 
 possible remnant of the decayed trunk. Still the hills 
 stretched in dreary ranges, and exhibited masses of oxydated 
 rock ; and still the way was skirted with the bluish and 
 spear-like leaves of the aloe, upon whose thorny edges hung 
 many a crystal dew-drop. 
 
 It was but dawn when they left the village which formed 
 the boundary of the carriage-road, and guided their horses 
 into the path which leads to the site of the ancient ^Egesta. 
 The way lay along the edge of a deep glen. The ranges of 
 mountains opposite are rock-ribbed, and dotted with culti- 
 vated lots, and the path itself is thickly bordered with over- 
 hanging bushes, clusters of wormwood, and innumerable wild 
 flowers. From the more elevated parts of this rugged and 
 narrow path, when the wide slopes on the right, the green 
 defile beneath, and the clear horizon beyond, were all visible, 
 the scene was remarkably picturesque. As they wound 
 slowly along, gradually coming in sight of its different fea- 
 tures, the morning light stole softly, and in gentle gradations, 
 over the landscape, now falling goldenly upon some high 
 mound, now giving a silvery glow to the polished leaves of a 
 
SEGESTA AND SELINVNTWM. I53 
 
 distant and lofty tree, and radiating more and more broadly 
 a clear light along the eastern sky. Isabel's gaze was di- 
 rected to the hills on her left, as the sun thus silently dis- 
 persed from their tops the mist of night, when, at a break in 
 their line, unexpectedly as a vision, appeared the beautiful 
 temple, standing in solitary prominence upon a broad, high 
 hill-top. The early gleam of the sun fell upon its simple col- 
 umns, between which glimmered from afar the lucid horizon. 
 The lonel}' position of this chaste edifice gives a singular and 
 striking effect to its first appearance, rising thus to the eye 
 unawares. No trees interrupt the view. xSo adjacent ob- 
 jects distract the attention. Though by no means lofty or 
 commanding in its proportions, it is placed so high, that, when 
 seen from below, and thus distantly, there is a majesty in its 
 aspect which is deeply impressive. The time-worn hue, the 
 graceful pillars, the airy architecture, the elevated position, 
 induce an immediate and most pleasing impression. The be- 
 holder at once feels that there is before him a Grecian tem- 
 ple — one of those few specimens which embalm and illustrate 
 a principle of art. and memorialize an exploded but poetical 
 religion. The perfect repose of an hour, the extensive and 
 varied scenery, the lonely position of this fair vestige, and its 
 tranquil beauty, were scarcely realized by the travellers, ere, 
 like a scenic image, it was lost to view as suddenly as it had 
 appeared. The next bend of the mountains veiled it from 
 their gaze, and left them at liberty to speculate upon its ap- 
 pearance. This momentary glimpse, however, sufiiced to 
 strike and arouse Isabel's imagination more effectually, per- 
 haps, than a nearer and longer inspection. She pondered 
 long upon the devotion to Nature which the site selected for 
 its erection indicated, upon the love of the simple so insig- 
 nificantly displayed in its architecture, upon the delightful 
 
 union of the beauty of art with the glory of the universe, 
 
 7# 
 
154 SICILY. 
 
 wbicli the Greeks understood so well how to combine into 
 one noble influence, to arouse human feeling and address the 
 sense of the ideal. No one, she thought, possessing one 
 spark of the soul's ethereal fire could encounter such a tem- 
 ple, encircled by the green hills, and canopied by the vaulted 
 sky — at the solemn hour of morning, without thinking of a 
 superior intelligence, and yielding to the inspiration of that 
 devotional sentiment which prompts the human heart to seek 
 that which is above . and eternal ; in wretched ignorance too 
 often it may be, with a most dim and inadequate sense of its 
 object perhaps ; but still there would be the feeling, the idea 
 of devotion — the struggling of the spirit to mount — the tend- 
 ing of the soul heavenward — the uplooking, the inclination to 
 the spiritual, which is man's highest attribute. In such a 
 feeling there is blessedness. How much might art and soci- 
 ety and experience encourage and call it forth, were men 
 more inclined to lessen the machinery and cherish the poetry 
 of life ! After winding round the base of the hills, they 
 came out upon the almost barren scene which once teemed 
 with the dwellings of an ancient city. On the summit of a 
 mountain — itself the centre of an amphitheatre of hills, are 
 the remains of the amphitheatre of Segeste ; and as one sits 
 upon the highest range of stone seats, the eye glances over a 
 mountainous and wild region, embracing a prospect of re- 
 markable extent. Below, upon a lesser elevation, and in the 
 centre of a dale, appears the temple — the only other distinct 
 relic of the ruined city. Its thirty-six columns are much in- 
 dented and shattered, and have been partially restored. As 
 the strangers stood upon the weedy ground, beneath the roof- 
 less architrave, the wind sighed through the open pillars as it 
 swept from the hills. A flock of goats were ruminating upon 
 the slope which declined from the front of the building, and 
 
SEGESTA AND SELINUNTIUM. 155 
 
 scores of birds, distributed by the intrusiorij fluttered and 
 wailed above their heads. 
 
 '• This Doric structure," said Vittorio, " is supposed to 
 have been dedicated to Ceres, and is no unworthy token of 
 the city it has survived, whose foundations were laid soon 
 after the Trojan war, and the destruction of which is attrib- 
 uted to Agathoclcs. This tyrant's anger was provoked by 
 the uEgestans having asked aid from the Carthaginians to re- 
 sist his usurpations. How beautiful appears such an archi- 
 tectural relic, standing alone in the midst of these wild sweep- 
 ing hills — a lone memorial of departed ages — invoking the 
 traveller to remember that here once flourished the arts of 
 life, and swelled the tide of humanity in grandeur and pros- 
 perity, where all is now solitude and dreariness ! No sound 
 but the tinkling bells of that browsing herd, and the wild 
 hymn of the free wind, meets our ears. No human figures 
 enliven the scene, save that group of herdsmen leaning on 
 their reeds. All is lone and silent. Yet as we look upon 
 these columns, which violence has mutilated, and time 
 stamped with decay, and trace the lines of human workman- 
 ship ; as we at one view contemplate the regular position of 
 the pillars, the cornice, the pediment, the broad steps, the 
 simple majesty of the design, and mark the evidences of hu- 
 man thought — how clearly does this isolated object bring 
 home to the spectator the thought of those who once gath- 
 ered about this portal in familiar conclave, and to whose 
 eyes this temple was as well known as the landscape of our 
 native place to us ! For ages the morning has gilded these 
 columns as at this moment ; for ages they have been be- 
 dewed with the tears of the solemn night. Centuries of 
 revolution, and of nature's annual decline and renovation, 
 have passed on, and still it stands, venerable and alone — a 
 mute chronicle, unshadowed by one of the ma^v edifices 
 
156 SICILY. 
 
 that rose around it — the recordless monument of the city it 
 adorned." 
 
 After leaving this interesting spot, the way became more 
 void of the signs of life and cultivation. Now and then they 
 passed a lettiga^ with its complement of passengers and at- 
 tendants. This is the national carriage of Sicily. It con- 
 sists of a kind of box, like the body of a carriage, rudely 
 painted with the effigies of saints and martyrs, and secured 
 to two poles, which are supported in front and behind upon 
 the backs of two mules. The constant tinkling of the bells, 
 and the uneasy motion of these animals, combined with the 
 narrow dimensions of the vehicle, render it a comfortless con- 
 veyance. The extensive hill-sides and plains in this region 
 afford pasturage to numerous flocks of sheep and herds of 
 cattle, and occasionally patches of more productive soil were 
 covered with the blue blossom of the flax, or green with the 
 newly-sprung grain. There was a forbidding aspect, how- 
 ever, in most of the scenery, especially when a cloud veiled 
 from its wide surface the cheerful sunlight. Our travellers 
 were not the less sensible of this lack of pleasing features in 
 the landscape, that they were fresh from the companionship 
 and living language of the metropolis. Who has not felt, 
 after a long abode in town, when he has found himself alone 
 in a thinly-populated country, a certain strangeness of posi- 
 tion, arising from the unwonted absence of the sights and 
 sounds of multitudinous life ? 
 
 " It seems sometimes well," said Isabel, " to quit thus the 
 circle of busy life, to leave behind us the symbols of social 
 refinement, and to come forth into the loneliness of nature. 
 We return to these enjoyments with a new delight." 
 
 '• I doubt," replied Vittorio, " if any but travellers can 
 thoroughly appreciate the blessings of civilization, the ameni- 
 ties of cultivated society, and what Lamb calls ' the sweet se- 
 
SEGESTA AND SELINUNTIUM. 157 
 
 curity of streets.' It is by contrast that we realize their 
 charms. And I know no change more delightful than that 
 from days of wandering in a scantily habited country, to our 
 accustomed round of friendly visits, and social pleasures, 
 where are congregated the dwellings of our kind, environed 
 with the graces, the courtesies, and the refinements of social 
 existence." 
 
 Frazier, who had dismounted, and rambled to a little dis- 
 tance, returned with his hand full of herbs. 
 
 " Look," he exclaimed, " while you have been idly specu- 
 lating, I have botanized to some advantage ; for in this little 
 walk I have discovered several wild plants, which, in their 
 cultivated state, garnish our tables. It proves how fertile 
 in useful productions, are even the barrenest parts of the 
 island. Here, for instance, is a bunch of wild asparagus, al- 
 most as good in appearance as is sold in the markets of 
 America." 
 
 " You would find it rather bitter though," said the count, 
 laughing ; '' but we are approaching a finer illustration of the 
 richness of the Sicilian soil." 
 
 As he spoke they came in view of another of these rich 
 plains, which occur, at intervals, along the coast, and afford 
 the greatest contrast to the desolate chains of mountain scen- 
 ery which extend back for miles from their borders. 
 
 There is an ancient quarry at the distance of a few miles 
 from the now impoverished town of Castel-Vetrano, at which 
 travellers repose on the route we are describing, if haply they 
 are provided with the appurtenances to secure comfortable 
 slumber, and bid defiance to the attacks of the insects which 
 infest the country-houses of the island. The ride thither is 
 dreary, and the first object worthy of note which meets the 
 e3"e is Pantelleria, looming up from the sea at a considerable 
 distance, its two mounds, if the day be fine, clearly defined 
 
158 SICILY. 
 
 against the horizon. This island is the wretched abode of 
 most of the state prisoners of the kingdom of Naples. The 
 old quarry is situated in the midst of a cultivated field. 
 There is a large mass of granite, bearing the most obvious 
 marks of having been anciently cut for architectural purposes. 
 Two or three circular blocks, of about nine feet in diameter, 
 remain standing, and were evidently intended as parts of 
 enormous columns. It is curious to remark, that the man- 
 ner of working this quarry was evidently to cut the blocks 
 for use directly from the mass, instead of first excavating 
 fragments, and then shaping them, as is the modern custom. 
 Vittorio bade Isabel notice this, as a proof of the economy 
 of ancient labor. The difficulty there must have been in 
 transporting these huge segments was another subject of won- 
 derment. 
 
 " If it were not for these rank weeds, and this thick coat 
 of moss," said Frazier, '• one would think the work was aban 
 doned but yesterday. How plainly you can trace the lines 
 of the chisel ! Yet this scene of action was thus suddenlji 
 deserted many ages ago, and has apparently been undisturbed 
 since, save by the traveller's footstep." 
 
 On quitting the place to visit the site of Selinuntium, 
 which city was evidently indebted for its most lasting mate- 
 rial to this very quarry, they found the path far difi'erent 
 from that which they had threaded since morning. It was a 
 lane, thickly bordered with myrtles and flov/ery shrubs, which 
 perfumed the air beneath a sunlight so vivid, that they were 
 glad to guide their horses beneath the trees which overhung 
 the way. There was a mingled wildness and garden-like 
 beauty in this sequestered road which charmed Isabel, and 
 she was delighted to find, in many of the floral emblems, that 
 seemed to smile upon her from their waving stalks, or meekly 
 court a glance from below, many of the flowers which at 
 
SEGESTA AND SELINUNTIUM. I59 
 
 home were deemed worthy of assiduous culture. Through 
 the openings in the hedge, here and there, were visible the 
 thatched and hive-like tents of carbonari and the cheese-mak- 
 ers. Near the former a wreath of blue smoke curled grace- 
 fully upward ; and about the latter the cattle lay in groups, 
 with their stag-like heads motionless, giving a rural and pic- 
 turesque air to the otherwise deserted scene. From this 
 shady and soothing way they came out upon a sandy beach, 
 upon which broke, in gentle murmurings, the blue waters of 
 the sea, and, ascending a high cliff, were at the foot of the 
 lesser pile of ruins which indicate where stood the ancient 
 Selinus. Between this spot and the opposite elevation was 
 the port of the city, now choked up with sand ; and the plain 
 above the farther promontory is covered, for a considerable 
 space around, with the massive remains of the temples of 
 Selinuntium. These fragments, with the exception of two or 
 three columns which still rise in stern pride, seem to have 
 been thrown down by some violent convulsion of the earth. 
 They are all in a style of severe simplicity, and the vestiges 
 of the largest edifice indicate its size to have been grand be- 
 yond conception. There is something unique, even to one 
 very familiar with the trophies of antiquity, in the appearance 
 of this mass of ruins. Broken columns, capitals, wall-stones, 
 and architraves, huddled promiscuously together, and bear- 
 ing few traces of time's corrosive torch, but rather wearing a 
 hue of freshness and undiminished strength. Their position, 
 however, and the herbage and wild flowers which grow luxu- 
 riantly amid and around them, sufficiently vindicate their 
 claim to the title of ruins. The sea-breeze stirred the flow- 
 ing hair of Isabel as she sat upon one of these huge frag- 
 ments between her uncle and Yittorio, v.'hile their purveyor 
 arranged their collation upon the wide slab of a fallen pillar. 
 She looked seaward, round over the verdant plains, and then 
 
160 SICILY. 
 
 upon these noble and prostrate remains, and the glad har- 
 mony of nature seemed to blend with the solemn music of 
 antiquity, and move in one deep, rich, and softened cadence 
 over her heart. 
 
 " If toil and enduring material could secure the perpetu- 
 ity of human temples," said the count, " one would think that 
 these would have remained unharmed, and stood now in solid 
 grandeur as at the hour of their completion. Yet one earth- 
 quake, perhaps of momentary duration, long since, laid their 
 proud columns in the dust. How triumphant are the ener- 
 gies of nature ! How transient the mightiest efforts of art ! 
 See what a vine has spread its tendrils over this capital, and 
 note that brightly-painted lizard glide fearlessly over this 
 splendid segment of a majestic column." 
 
 " Yet, after all," said Frazier, " why moralize over a few 
 blocks of granite, which were quarried, carved, and reared 
 into a gigantic structure, and, having served their destined 
 purpose, were hurled down to crumble on the earth ? Rather 
 look upon these fertile fields, and that line of fishing-boats, 
 and rejoice that the resources of the earth are ever renewed, 
 so that, with due labor and care, men, age after age, are pro- 
 vided with the necessities of life and the bounties of Provi- 
 dence." 
 
 •' It is, I believe," said Isabel, " because the count has 
 faith in other wants than such as these that he speaks mourn- 
 fully of these ruins. He sees an evidence of devotion to some- 
 thing beyond and above physical life. They are mementos 
 of sentiment, taste, and mind. They bespeak a love of the 
 grand and the beautiful, and therefore it is saddening to think 
 of their downfall and behold their decay. Yet methinks it 
 were more consoling to remember the eternity of the princi- 
 ple that gave them birth ; to think that art's divinest product 
 is but faintly typical of human capacity — to think that the 
 
SEGESTA AND SELINUNTIUM. 161 
 
 more completely vain seem the embodiments of genius and 
 feeling now, the more conscious is the spirit of a nobler 
 sphere and an immortal destiny." 
 
 Isabel's eye and cheek glowed, and her voice was firm in 
 its sweetness as she spoke. Her travelling hat was thrown 
 back, that the refreshing air might visit her brow more free- 
 ly ; and as she thus uttered her young but warm conviction, 
 even her uncle's smile changed to a gaze of admiring affec- 
 tion, and the earnest eyes of Vittorio were thoughtfully fixed 
 upon her face. She seemed to him like the lovely genius of 
 the scene — the inspired prophetess, heaven-appointed, to in- 
 terpret its teachings. 
 
)riartn. 
 
 Rebellious subjects, enen)ies to peace, 
 
 Profaners of this neighbor-stained steel, 
 
 Will they not hear ? — what ho ! you men, you beasts — 
 
 That quench the lire of your pernicious rage, 
 
 With purplo fountains issuing from your veins, 
 
 On pain of torture, from those bloody hands 
 
 Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground. 
 
 ROMKO AND JTTLIKT. 
 
 THE path, beyond tlie remarkable vestiges of Selinuntium, 
 intersects a cork wood of some extent. The trees which 
 compose it are not, however, of that immense size which ren- 
 ders these forests so grand and gloomy in more northern 
 districts of Europe. They are triennially barked, and, at 
 different times, have proved highly profitable to the proprie- 
 tors, A bfoad heath, interspersed with masses of tangled 
 brushwood, opens from the extremity of this grove, and its 
 barrenness is relieved by the yellow blossoms of a species of 
 broom which abounds here, of a bell-like form, and pleasant 
 perfume. A rough and precipitous descent conducts the 
 traveller down to the sea-shore, upon which stands the town 
 of Sciacca. There are few among the many picturesque lo- 
 calities of Sicily which strike the beholder as better adapted 
 for the scenes of romance than this. The country, for many 
 
SCIACCA. 163 
 
 miles round, is wild and hilly, and a long ridge of lonely 
 beacli offers the most accessible road during a considerable 
 space. Several abrupt mountains are grouped commandingly 
 at a short distance from the sea, from one of which a constant 
 stream of sulphur vapor exhudes, and at their base are several 
 warm springs mentioned in ancient history. Beneath these 
 hills, upon a promontory jutting into the ocean, appears 
 Sciacca. The peculiar hue of age which distinguishes its 
 compact buildings and wave-washed ramparts, is in admirable 
 keeping with the wild adjacent scenery and bleak position of 
 the ancient town. The ascent to its walls is very steep and 
 broken ; and as our travellers were slowly winding up the 
 rude mule-path, Isabel declared there must be some fearful 
 legend or historic interest attached to the spot, and turned 
 to the count for a confirmation of her surmises. He could 
 not but credit her sagacity ; and when the party were re- 
 freshed, as far as the miserable accommodations of the place 
 permitted, they beguiled the evening with a glimpse of the 
 history of that now decayed and impoverished country. 
 
 " The ruins of the two castles back of the town, and an 
 old palace within its walls, are the only existent memorials 
 of the most distinguished among its ancient families. No- 
 bility and wealth combined to give the ascendency in Sciacca 
 to the houses of Luna and PeroUo. Between these rival 
 barons, and their descendants, there existed a feud as in- 
 veterate and deadly, though boasting no such affecting catas- 
 trophe, as that which has immortalized the names of Capulet 
 and Montague. Its origin, like that of many similar quarrels, 
 is attributed to disappointed love. Arrale Luna and John 
 PeroUo were suitors for the hand of Margaret Peralta, an 
 accomplished and beautiful heiress. At that moment the 
 balance of worldly advantages preponderated in favor of 
 Luna, who was a great favorite at court; and he was ac- 
 
164 SICILY. 
 
 cepted, although it is believed the lady greatly preferred his 
 rival. If she did thus sacrifice her affections to ambition, 
 the usual fatal consequences of such perversity soon followed ; 
 for in a very short time after his marriage, Count Arrale, 
 having taken a bath at the foot of younder mountain, under 
 the church of St. Barnabas, suddenly died, in June, 1412. It 
 was currently reported that the bath was poisoned by the un- 
 successful lover. However ill-established the story was, a 
 mere suspicion of this nature, in that sanguinary age, was 
 sufficient to excite in the minds of Luna's immediate descend- 
 ants a desire and purpose of revenge. This was increased by 
 a litigation between the houses respecting the barony of St. 
 Bartolomy, then in possession of Perollo. The case was de- 
 cided in favor of Luna, and thus a new occasion for mutual 
 animosity presented itself Deprived of his estate by his 
 enemy, and mindful of his ancestor's wrong, Perollo deter- 
 mined to inflict summary vengeance upon his rival, whose 
 very presence, environed as it was with all the insignia of 
 successful ambition and superior wealth, was a source of con- 
 stant annoyance to the haughty baron. The manner in which 
 he undertook to obtain satisfaction for his baffled hopes, and 
 satisfy his long-cherished hatred, is a remarkable evidence of 
 the daring and ferocious spirit of those times. Towards 
 evening, on the sixth of April, 1 455, as Luna was walking in 
 procession with the priests of the Holy Thorn, near the palace 
 of Perollo, his enemy, taking advantage of his defenceless 
 position, rushed forth, and stabbed him till he fell. Then, 
 leaving him weltering in his gore, he hastened with a party 
 of adherents to the palace of his fallen foe, and, setting it on 
 fire, abandoned it to destruction. Luna's wound was not, 
 however, mortal, and he gradually recovered from its effects. 
 This flagrant crime was the means of extending the knowl- 
 edge of the inveterate feud which had so long disturbed the 
 
SCIACCA. 165 
 
 peace, not only of the rival families, but of their whole native 
 city, and in order, if possible, to arrest its progress, King 
 Alphonso banished both of the fierce barons. In the course 
 of the year 1462, John of Arragon recalled them, and, whether 
 cooled by absence, or rendered reasonable by advancing years, 
 on returning to Sciacca they mutually avoided all occasions 
 of discord, and passed their remaining days in friendship. 
 
 " Nearly seventy years had elapsed, and Charles occupied 
 the throne of Spain and Sicily. It was one of the most agi- 
 tated and eventful epochs in the history of the island. The 
 two leading houses of Sciacca had continued to advance in 
 riches and power, and at this time they occupied relatively 
 the same antagonist positions. They still were rivals in wealth 
 and ambition, superior in rank and influence to all around 
 them, and sufficiently balanced in the number of their re- 
 spective friends, the pride of birth, and the means of acquir- 
 ing power, to keep alive a constant and active spirit of rival- 
 ry. In accordance, too, with the notions of the age, it was 
 deemed chivalrous to remember that their ancestors were 
 enemies, and keep the slumbering embers of past feuds from 
 being utterly extinguished. The demon of quarrel, however, 
 for a considerable time, only manifested itself among the de- 
 pendents and friends of the two nobles, occasionally breaking 
 out in petty disputes or bloody encounters. Thus, even with- 
 out the immediate agency of the principal personages, the 
 order, security, and quiet of Sciacca were perpetually invaded 
 by this long-nurtured feud. The narrow confines of a single 
 city were insufficient to sustain the conflicting pride of two 
 such haughty chiefs ; and the spirit of faction, that enemy of 
 social tranquillity, raged with unrestrained ferocity and seem- 
 ingly deathless energy amid the inhabitants of Sciacca. An 
 incident soon occurred which roused the leaders to renewed 
 hostilities. Sericano Bassa, a famous Moorish corsair, who 
 
166 . SICILY. 
 
 had carried off many of the inhabitants from the coast of 
 Sicily, and consigned them to slavery, succeeded, in the sum- 
 mer of 1529, in surprising the Baron of Sola.nto, while that 
 noble and his friends were hunting. Proud of such a prize, 
 the bold pirate appeared off the shore of Sciacca, and dis- 
 played signals for a ransom. Luna presented himself, and 
 made large offers to retrieve the captives, but his exertions 
 were quite unsuccessful. Perollo, equally anxious to effect 
 the same object, not only tendered rich presents, but endeav- 
 ored to gain the good-will of the corsair by his attentions and 
 talents. In a short time those efforts were so effectual, that 
 the dreaded pirate not only gave up his noble prisoner, but 
 solemnly pledged himself to Perollo never henceforth to 
 cruise near the shore of Sciacca. Thus the baron not only 
 conferred a lasting obligation upon one whose friendship was 
 eminently desirable, but rendered an important service, and 
 one which could not but be deeply felt, upon his native city. 
 This triumph of his rival's excited the most rancorous envy 
 in the breast of Luna ; and so open was he in his threats of 
 injury, having retired to Castabellata, and consulted with his 
 friends as to the best means of exterminating his enemy, that 
 Perollo and his partisans began to consider how they could 
 best anticipate his machinations. Luna and his counsellors 
 deliberately determined upon the death of his rival, and ac- 
 cordingly sallied forth at night, at the head of a hundred 
 soldiers, who, to avoid suspicion, were dispersed through the 
 city. Their intended victim, having received timely warning, 
 was shut up in his palace under the plea of illness. The 
 bravi of Luna succeeded in taking two well-known friends of 
 Perollo, whom they instantly despatched, and bore their 
 heads, affixed to poles, through the streets of the town. An 
 excellent and illustrious citizen, heart-sick at this horrible 
 proceeding, attempted to establish a reconciliation, and ap- 
 
SCIACCA. 167 
 
 peared before both barons, bearing an olive branch, and 
 counselling peace ; but the good old man was seized by some 
 members of one of the factions, who affected to consider him 
 a spy, and basely murdered. "When Perollo heard of this 
 new crime, he appealed to the viceroy for assistance. Baron 
 Statella, from Catania, was commissioned, in conjunction 
 with the fiscal counsellors, and three officers of Sciacca, with 
 full power. He ordered Luna to disband his troops and re- 
 turn to Castabellata, executed the leading ruffians, and took 
 every measure to quell the tumult. But the riotous citizens 
 rose upon him, and Luna, after dissembling a short time, re- 
 turned with an increased force, and declared himself resolved 
 to prosecute his purposes. In this emergency, Perollo sent 
 his eldest son to solicit succor at Messina, with a strong at- 
 tendant guard. Luna took immediate advantage of the dimi- 
 nution of the forces sent to guard his rival, and, having bar- 
 ricaded the streets, surrounded the palace where Statella 
 resided, who was killed, and his body thrown from the bat- 
 tlements. Perollo's castle was also besieged, and, after a 
 prolonged and desperate assault, was on the point of being 
 taken, when the friends of its unhappy proprietor once more 
 endeavored to win Luna to peace. The haughty baron re- 
 fused all overtures, unless his enemy should kneel to him, 
 ask forgiveness, and kiss his feet. The bearer of this humili- 
 ating proposal having been severely beaten, Luna was so 
 exasperated, that on the following morning he renewed his 
 attacks vehemently, and, having made a breach, penetrated 
 to the interior of the castle, and spread ruin and death around 
 him. Perollo fled by the southern postern ; the victor re- 
 spected the persons of the fugitive's family, but turned a 
 deaf ear to their tearful prayers for peace. Perollo took 
 refuge in a house near the sea, but was betrayed to Luna by 
 one of his own faction. He was slain by the daggers of his 
 
168 ' SICILY. 
 
 rival's partisans, and his body dragged through the streets, 
 attached to the tail of Luna's horse. Frederick Perollo re- 
 turned at the head of a powerful force, and revenged his 
 father's death by the massacre of Luna and his adherents. 
 This last sanguinary scene closed the long and tragic feud 
 of the rival houses — a feud unparalleled for its inveteracy, 
 and affording a sad illustration of the spirit of those times — 
 a feud which for many generations divided and harassed the 
 people, and signally marred the prosperity of Sciacca." 
 
What is gray with age becomes religion. Wallknstkik. 
 
 THE dreariness of the ride from Sciacca to Girgenti is in- 
 terrupted only by the occasional appearance of one of 
 the many torrents which rut^h from the mountains to the sea, 
 and the sight of some old tower crowning a bluff upon the 
 shore. These relics of ancient fortresses are pleasant objects 
 in the lonely prospects, since they carry back the mind to one 
 of the most romantic, though least known, of the eras of 
 Sicilian history. Another striking object which draws the 
 attention of the wanderer through this solitary region is the 
 singular aspect of a little village on a hill-top, which, on ac- 
 count of its bleak position, about fifty years since, was de- 
 serted by its inhabitants, who erected their cottages in the 
 sheltered vale below, leaving their former dwellings to de- 
 cay. The compact, low walls of this group of gray cottages 
 are conspicuous in their desertion, and when first seen, pre- 
 sent, in conjunction with the country around them, a melan- 
 choly though not displeasing picture. It is somewhat start- 
 ling to the unprepared equestrian, after crossing the line of 
 beach which completes his dreary ride, to find himself upon 
 the Mole of Girgenti, which, although of inconsiderable ex- 
 
 8 
 
170 SICILY. 
 
 tent, often presents a scene of bustle and activity. Lines of 
 galley-slaves may be seen repairing the mound, the clank of 
 their fetters blending with the roar of the waves, vessels of 
 no ordinary burden lying off the shore to receive their car- 
 goes, boats plying, and, higher up, crowds of porters trans- 
 porting the sulphur-cake, the great article of export here, or 
 arranging it in long piles to be weighed. As he leaves this 
 little mart, a more cheerful country at once presents itself, 
 and a level and well-travelled road echoes cheerily to the 
 steps of his steed. Small droves of donkeys, with their pan- 
 niers filled with the firmly moulded product of the mine, wind 
 along the highway, and far above appears the Girgenti, on 
 the summit of a mountain. Although this, like most of the 
 Sicilian towns when viewed from afar, presents a strong, an- 
 cient, and really picturesque appearance, when more inti- 
 mately known it is found to consist of narrow and filthy 
 streets, where beggary vaunts its wretchedness, and comfort is 
 almost unknown ; where a splendid church, a few palaces, or 
 some beautifully located convents, are in saddening contrast 
 with the general and too often disgusting tokens of neglect 
 and misery. It was perfectly refreshing to the spirits of the 
 strangers to find themselves, on a balmy and bright morning, 
 free from the air of the modern town, which rose command- 
 ingly above them, and traversing the fertile and noble plain 
 upon which stand the antiquities they sought. The day, in- 
 deed, was an uncommon one, even for that region. The 
 warm, enervating breath of a mild sirocco wind was tempered 
 by the sea-breeze. The light, fleecy clouds of a summer sky 
 had floated down to the very edge of the horizon, and the 
 broad, clear canopy of heaven was one boundless expanse of 
 azure ; while the sun, as yet devoid of the intense heat of the 
 approaching season, shone in all the glory, without the fervid 
 heat, of a southern spring. It was one of those splendid days 
 
AGRIGENTUM. 171 
 
 which bring, to such as are blessed with health, an unaccount- 
 able exhilaration — which fill up the measure of content, and 
 charm the senses while they animate the soul. The field 
 through which our little party were proceeding was vividly 
 green with early grain, as if the goddess once worshipped in 
 this plain still delighted to clothe it with the emblems of her 
 favor. Over this thickly-woven garniture fell, far and wide, 
 the shadows of innumerable almond and olive-trees, which 
 studded, for a great distance, the plentiful domain, the dark 
 and light tints of their foliage intermingling in rich variety. 
 Here stood the second ancient city of Sicily. The remains 
 of a temple, consecrated to Ceres and Proserpine, have shared 
 the fate of many architectural relics of past ages, in being 
 transformed into constituent parts of a church. One column 
 of what is called Vulcan's Temple is embedded in a peasant's 
 cottage, and the only other remaining one rises at the corner 
 of his garden wall. Two columnar fragments, and the stair- 
 case of the temple of Esculapius, are in a like situation. But 
 with these exceptions, the ruins of Agrigentum exist invio- 
 late to an extraordinary degree, and are less invaded by mod- 
 ern and irrelevant circumstances than is often the case with 
 the antiquities of Europe. The first in tolerable preserva- 
 tion is the temple of Juno Lucina. Its position is beautiful 
 and commanding ; and the foundation of the internal wall, 
 thirteen perfect and many broken colums of the Doric order, 
 are still standing. The altar-base is also discoverable, and 
 one can follow the corridors in their whole extent. From the 
 little esplanade in front, a view of vastness and beauty ex- 
 pands to the vision. This space was evidently left for efi"ect ; 
 and a few ancient benches of stone, at a sufficient distance to 
 command a view of the whole edifice, suggest how much 
 judgment was exercised in the location and arrangement of 
 the edifice. This spot must have been a favorite retreat for 
 
172 SICILY. 
 
 the contemplative. The sea spreads itself illimitably on the 
 one side, and all the space around is one luxuriant valley, 
 bounded by a fine ridge of mountains, upon one of which the 
 modern town of Girgenti now stands, while directly before 
 the spectator rose, with a simple majesty accordant with the 
 spirit of the scene, the noble fabric whose vestiges still 
 awaken admiration. 
 
 " One disposed to be fanciful," said Vittorio, as they 
 stood enjoying the prospect, " might almost imagine that he 
 heard the flutter of a philosopher's robe in this early and in- 
 vigorating breeze, so well adapted seems the spot to the dig- 
 nity of thought. And may we not reasonably suppose, that 
 this level space, before so beautiful an edifice, has often been 
 paced by the slow feet of sages, as they sought, according to 
 the delightful custom of antiquity, mutually to impart wis- 
 dom, with nature's restoring breath playing around, and art's 
 noblest trophies rising beside them ? It was within the walls 
 of this temple that the precious painting of Zeuxis, in which 
 were concentrated the charms of the five most lovely women 
 of Agrigentum, was preserved." 
 
 " It is a fine idea, is it not," said Isabel, " that of weaving 
 into one perfect whole the beauties which nature has scat- 
 tered ? There is poetry in the thought. So may we gather 
 the volatile light of pleasure by keeping our spirits clear and 
 open, that, like a lens, they may gather the scattered rays, 
 and make them radiate one warm beam of joy upon thd 
 heart." 
 
 " And there is philosophy in the thought, also," said Yit- 
 torio. " Thus, too, comes to us wisdom and truth. Men err 
 most essentially by seeking them from partial sources ; one 
 from a single science, another from nature alone, and a third 
 from an abstract theory. Like the Grecian painter, we 
 should be more universal ; and combine into a luminous 
 
AGRIGENTUM. 173 
 
 whole the light that beams from the wide domain of creation, 
 and the broad universe of humanity. We should roam, like 
 the blessed founder of a pure religion, seeking emblems of 
 the good and the true in the lily and the grass — in the hum- 
 ble action of the despised, and the ostentatious effort of the 
 wealthy — in the aspect of childhood and the events of time. 
 Gleaning thus from society and the universe the garland we 
 should weave on the by-way of time, like the painting of 
 Zeuxis, would blend the various glories which men too often 
 seek singly, and therefore find inadequate." 
 
 Passing on by scattered masses of the ancient walls, in 
 which are discoverable the niches for the deposit of funeral 
 urns, the next temple is that of Concord, the most perfect of 
 the antiquities, being complete, with the exception of the 
 roof It is situated a little lower than that of Juno, but is 
 still sufficiently elevated to command from its top the same 
 extent and variety of scenery. At the distance of a few rods, 
 a line of low wall-stones, and a group of columnar and other 
 fragments, evidence the former magnificence of the temple of 
 Hercules ; and farther on, two or three enormous capitals, 
 and the foundation layers of the outer wall of the temple of 
 Jupiter Olympicus, prove it to have been one of the largest 
 of the ancient edifices of Sicily. As the visitor wanders amid 
 the huge mass of ruins, he discovers in the midst a group of 
 stone-work, in which a little attention will enable him to de- 
 cipher the lineaments and frame of a stupendous giant. Sev- 
 eral other remnants of this kind are noticeable among the 
 massive blocks, and it is conjectured that these monsters 
 were carved to form a secondary row of pillars in this grand 
 structure. In a pleasant dale below this heap of remains 
 stand three chaste columns and a cornice, all that exist en- 
 tire of the temple of Castor and Pollux. A square massive 
 tower, of unquestionable antiquity, in the vicinity, is known 
 
174 " SICILY. 
 
 as the tomb of Theron, although by some it is supposed to be 
 the monument of a horse, many of which are known to have 
 been erected by the Agrigentines. 
 
 After many delightful hours spent in viewing these va- 
 rious objects, Vittorio suggested that they should repair to 
 the convent of St. Nicolo, which stands upon the brow of a 
 mountain above the valley. This monastery has, for many 
 years, been deserted by the Franciscan fraternity, to whose 
 patrimony it belongs ; but it is still visited occasionally by 
 travellers, on account of the fine view obtainable from its 
 roof. When they reached this point of observation, the pan- 
 orama, canopied by a brilliant sky, appeared to them unpar- 
 alleled. The surface of the distant sea was unbroken by a 
 single sail, but the line of foam evidenced that its wide bosom 
 was stirred far out by the free wind. The dark tint of the 
 innumerable ancient olives relieved the light green of the 
 almond-trees, which shared with them the extensive plain. 
 On a gradually declining strip of upland, between the con- 
 vent and the sea, at a sufficient distance apart to give due 
 effect to each, appeared the remains of the city — Juno's line 
 of pillars, the graceful temple of Concord, prominent in its 
 completeness, the dim masses of Jupiter and Hercules, and, 
 in meek beauty, lightly springing from below, the three col- 
 umns of Castor and Pollux. The stone of which these tem- 
 ples are composed is not of a firm texture, and the marine 
 atoms discernible in its composition prove it to be of alluvial 
 formation. It is of a brownish, or clay color, which contrasts 
 finely with the verdure around, and, with the added advan- 
 tage of the lucid atmosphere peculiar to these regions, gives 
 to the several structures an exquisite relief in the landscape. 
 The notes of birds, or the clear chime of the bells from the 
 town above, were the only sounds which disturbed the reflec- 
 
AGRIGENTUM. 175 
 
 tions of the strangers as thej gazed from the lofty convent 
 upon the scene of their ramble. 
 
 "Enterprise," observed Frazier, "well directed, in the 
 excavation of this valley, would doubtless bring to light 
 many valuable relics of antiquity. No one can inspect the 
 meagre collection which has rewarded the comparatively 
 trifling labor bestowed here in seeking for vases, without 
 being convinced that there are innumerable unearthed treas- 
 ures lying beneath these grain fields." 
 
 " It were certainly desirable," said Vittorio, " not only 
 here, but at Pompeii and Kome, where the sight of such slow 
 and childish attempts at discovery, in a sphere in which one 
 feels there is so much to seek, is certainly provoking. But 
 how admirably are these antiquities situated to convey an 
 impression ! No piles of wooden building environ them. 
 The noise and filth of a populous town obliges not the travel- 
 ler to seek them by moonlight, as is the case in the Eternal 
 City. They are alone with nature. As we look upon them 
 thus, there is no difficulty in realizing their authenticity. 
 Through this plain whirled the ivory chariots of the Agrigen- 
 tines, drawn by horses of unrivalled swiftness and beauty. 
 Here the tyrant Phalaris practised his cruelties. From that 
 line of tombs hurried the fear-stricken soldiers of Hannibal, 
 when the sudden thunder-storm frightened them from their 
 sacrilegious purpose. A little more than four centuries be- 
 fore the Christian era a population of eight hundred thousand 
 souls inhabited this rich valley, now rendered picturesque by 
 a few remnants of the majestic temples of their gods. Over 
 all else obscurity has drawn a veil. And long may these 
 beautiful relics lift their time-worn shapes from this verdant 
 plain, to solemnize the fresh exuberance of nature with the 
 emblems of departed time, and awaken the thoughtful yet 
 
176 SICILY. 
 
 pleasing emotions with which we contemplate the mystery of 
 the past !" 
 
 The return route from Girgenti to the capital by the 
 most direct way, affords a good opportunity to judge of the 
 interior features of the island. Perhaps there are few coun- 
 tries, of similar extent, where a greater contrast is observable 
 than that between the coast and interior of Sicily. Along 
 the sea, and about Etna, the aspect is fertile and delightful, 
 and the stranger who should circumnavigate the island dur- 
 ing fine weather, would receive an impression of the richness 
 and beauty of the country which might realize his most ro- 
 mantic dreams of the luxurious south. Yet farther back, 
 bare hills and wild torrents constitute the predominant 
 scenery, sometimes brightened and diversified by patches of 
 wild flowers. The course which our pilgrims pursued to ex- 
 pedite their return led them through long tracks of bleak 
 pasturage, and they crossed more than thirty times the same 
 circuitous Jiumare, then shrunk to comparatively narrow di- 
 mensions ; but when at all swollen by the winter's rains, 
 presenting a complete barrier to the traveller's progress. 
 Yet, amidst these unproductive parts of the island, there are 
 still presented striking evidences of its natural resources. 
 The low mounds and light smoke of the sulphur mines, of 
 which there are several of apparently inexhaustible material 
 in Sicily, are seen at intervals, giving signs of life to some 
 lonely ridge of hills. Still it is a relief to emerge, after a 
 long day's travel, from this almost deserted domain, and 
 strike upon the fine road which runs through the island. The 
 occasional appearance of the country guards, who generally 
 move abroad in pairs, well mounted, give an assurance of the 
 neighborhood of more civilized provinces. These campiei-i, 
 as they are called, are selected from the inhabitants of each 
 village, and their commander is responsible for all robberies 
 
A GRIGENTUM. \ 77 
 
 on the highway durmg the day, an arrangement which has 
 proved very effectual in preserving the rights of travellers. 
 In the neighborhood of Palermo, a broad valley, covered with 
 rocks and olive-trees, indicates the scene of a noted brigand 
 fight, in which seven of these desperadoes succeeded in keep- 
 ing at bay a large number of troops and nearly a hundred 
 peasants for several hours, and at length five effected their 
 escape. Another scene of interest in the vicinity is a village, 
 founded by a Greek colony, where one of the dialects of that 
 language is still spoken, and on feast days the costume of the 
 nation w^orn. It is one of the customs peculiar to this 
 spot, and a similar and more distant settlement, that the 
 priests are allowed to marry. In the light of a fine afternoon 
 the vale of Palermo was once again revealed to the longing 
 eyes of Isabel, and she could not but compare the mere 
 curiosity with which she first greeted the distant city, with 
 the homefelt emotions which now filled her heart, as at the 
 presence of a cherished friend. 
 
 8* 
 
O welcome guest, though unexpected here! Cowper. 
 
 TO acquire true impressions, the traveller should revisit 
 scenes of natural interest and beauty, and behold them 
 in different moods of mind and at different seasons of the 
 year. If this is true generally, it is particularly so in regard 
 to many parts of Southern Europe, and especially of the 
 island of Sicily. A gloomy sky or chilly wind often dispels 
 all charm from her fairest prospect ; and although the peren- 
 nial verdure of the fertile regions gives them at all times a 
 cheerful aspect, yet it is wonderful how the feelings of the 
 stranger, who stands beneath the cloudless sky, and in the 
 clear sunlight of spring or autumn, contrasts with those 
 which he experiences when the scene is veiled by the winter 
 rain, or parched by the heat of mid-summer. Our pilgrims 
 were conscious of this, when, for the second time, they ap- 
 proached that part of the island which, in the view of the 
 scientific, presents the greatest amount of interest. One of 
 those beautiful English 3'achts which may occasionally be 
 seen cruising on the Mediterranean coast, had borne them, in 
 a few hours, from Palermo to Catania. Before reaching their 
 destination, they surveyed from the sea those remarkable 
 
THE REUNION. 179 
 
 masses of basaltic rock which rise near the shore, and were 
 obviously the offspring of Etna. To ascend this mountain 
 was the object of their visit, and, on landing, Isabel noted 
 with delight the rapidity with which vegetation unfolded, and 
 the universal hue of spring which had robed tlie whole adja- 
 cent country. At such a period, the singular prevalence of 
 the lava is more striking. Indeed, nothing but familiarity 
 with this wonderful material prevents its appearance in such 
 abundance from exciting surprise. The entire domain, for 
 many leagues around the volcano, bears witness to the fre- 
 quency and extent of its eruptions. The lava here lies 
 heaped in rocky masses ; there, reduced to powder, it consti- 
 tutes the road; decomposed by time, it forms the soil in 
 which every variety of tree and vegetable flourish ; shaped by 
 the chisel, it appears in the form of doorways and pillars, 
 while its rough and unhewn fragments serve for the walls of 
 plantations. 
 
 The road to Nicolosi, which constitutes the first stage of 
 the ascent, is bordered with vineyards, intersected with 
 streams of lava, of later origin than those which compose the 
 soil. With the exception of these dark ridges, and the fine 
 black dust which flies around the traveller, there is little to 
 impress him with the idea that he is passing over a country 
 once devastated by a volcanic inundation. Yet, directly be- 
 fore his eye rise two seemingly low mounds, with separate 
 peaks, but joined at their bases, of a dull red color, half 
 covered with shrubbery. This is Monte Rossi, whence issued 
 the fatal streams of 1669. After several hours' repose, our 
 travellers found themselves beyond the village, and moving 
 slowly towards the desired summit. It was night. The sky 
 was clear and the air calm. No sound but the heavy tread 
 of the mules, through the sand-like path, disturbed the deep 
 stillness of the hour. The light of a lantern, carried by a 
 
180 aiciLY. 
 
 boy in advance of tlie guide, glimmered upon the huge blocks 
 of lava, which were v/idely scattered around, like the waves 
 of the mighty sea, petrified in some moment of convulsion, 
 and dyed with the ebon blackness of a storm-cloud. Occa- 
 sionally a meteor flashed athwart the star-gemmed sky, or 
 a breeze from above swept fitfully by. There was something 
 indescribably solemn in thus seeking the summit of one of 
 earth's most venerable mountains in the solitude and shadow 
 of night, and for some time they continued to progress silent 
 ly, till the count observed to Frazier, " We have seen many 
 antiquities, but none of them can vie in age with this moun- 
 tain. It was sought by the wise men of old, not less than by 
 the inquirers of our own age. It is celebrated by the earliest 
 poets. Pindar sang its wonders, and the mythology of a 
 later epoch accounted for its mysterious movements by the 
 theory of the Cyclops, who, it was fabled, were forging the 
 armor of Yulcan beneath yonder cone." 
 
 '•And to us it remains almost as much of a mystery," 
 said Frazier, " in many essential respects. As to its history, 
 it seems to me we can best read it in the various strata of 
 lava around us, some the production of remote ages, some not 
 yet cooled by the upper air. Who can survey its enormous 
 base, and note the springs generated in its bosom, the many 
 colored minerals encrusted on its surface, the sulphureous 
 masses embedded in its sides, the fantastic ridges clingiug 
 around it, the masses it has hurled into the sea, the snow 
 upon its heights, the blaze from its crater, and the infinite 
 variety of trees and plants serenely growing over its wide 
 breast, without acknowledging it to be one of the greatest 
 wonders of this wonderful creation?" 
 
 Having crossed the woody region, an extensive tract thin- 
 ly covered with large ilexes, with few branches, and almost 
 destitute of foliage, they passed a space of more difiicult pas- 
 
THE REUNION. igi 
 
 sage, from the broken fragments of lava and tortuous chan- 
 nels between them, and came to a broad snow plain, whose 
 hard and slippery surface afforded an uncertain foothold, and 
 where the cold, keen wind, and extreme rarification of the 
 air, warned them that the trials attendant upon the expedi- 
 tion had not been wholly exaggerated. This sloping area 
 reaches to the base of the cone. As they moved towards it, 
 the smoke burst in heavy volumes from its centre, the dense 
 column ever and anon reddening with a deep crimson flash, 
 which rose with a kind of supernatural glare, throwing a 
 dazzling light over the snow, and looming through the clear 
 atmosphere with a momentary but startling brilliancy. The 
 young moon appeared, like a large golden crescent, hanging 
 on the horizon, w^ien they left the last refuge, called the 
 Casa Inglese^ and commenced climbing toward the crater 
 over heaps of crumbling lava. As they were seated away 
 from the immediate influence of the suffocatimr exhalation 
 upon the edge of the boiling abyss, dawn began to glimmer 
 along the sky, and far beneath them, at the horizon's edge, 
 the sun, appearing like an enormous globe of fire, seemed to 
 start from the mountains of Calabria, scattering over the 
 small fleecy clouds every variety of gorgeous tint, and bath- 
 ing the sea and hill-tops in light. Then felt the lonely spec- 
 tators on the summit of Etna, the sublimity of their position. 
 Volcanic mounds rose to their gaze, like ant-hills, over the 
 whole mountain. Sicily was spread beneath them — its moun- 
 tains, cities, and islands, dwindled to the dimensions of 
 minutely pictured objects. Syracuse was visible on the 
 shore ; Castro Giovanni among the hills. They descried 
 Malta, and even the distant Adriatic, and the shadow of the 
 cone of Etna falling like a mighty pyramid over the southern 
 side of the island. Who can describe the emotions excited 
 by such a landscape ? They are part of that poetry of life 
 
182 SICILY. 
 
 which whispers in mystic hut thrilling tones of a spirit in the 
 human breast, above the destiny of earth, and immortal as 
 the stars — a spirit which 
 
 " Has power to make 
 Our noisy years seem moments in the being 
 Of the eternal silence." 
 
 " I am fond of analogies," said Isabel, as they descended 
 the last lava plain — " especially between man and nature. Is 
 not the volcanic soil of this region like the temperament of 
 the people ? These rocks are formed by a sudden convulsion 
 at once, and momently ; so the feelings of the children of the 
 South mould themselves into action immediately ; quick, 
 fervent, and impetuous, they rush forth to results. In north- 
 ern countries, the slow processes of years form the granite ribs 
 of the hills, and the sons of those climes are contented with 
 regular, reflective, and gradually matured feeling." 
 
 " And remember," said the count, " the crystals found in 
 the quickly smouldered furnace are often as clear and beau- 
 tiful as the stalactite created by the slow-dropping water 
 through countless years." 
 
 The warm season had now commenced ; and our travel- 
 lers found the change from the still brooding heat and scorch- 
 ing sirocco of the capital, to the breezy confines of Messina, 
 delightfully refreshing. There is a certain melancholy, 
 thaugh not displeasing influence, in the advent of a Southern 
 summer. The long days, when the heat forbids active exer- 
 cise abroad, and enjoins quiet at home, following each other 
 in bright yet monotonous succession, induce a physical 
 languor which begets a dreamy mood. The very brilliancy 
 of the weather, unbroken for weeks by a single change, 
 chastens the buoyancy which the variety of other seasons 
 awakens, and the many hours that are passed in the airy soli- 
 
THE REUNION. 183 
 
 tudo of lofty apartments, are rather calculated to subdue than 
 excite. The siesta and the bath take the place of the opera 
 and the promenade. Repose becomes a luxury ; and, thrown 
 back upon itself, the mind is prone to quiet musing, and the 
 imagination to soothing flights. Never had this season dawned 
 so richly upon Isabel, and yet its music was the saddest strain 
 which renewed nature had ever breathed upon her spirit. 
 She found herself at the point whence her journeyings had 
 commenced, and yet she was apparently no nearer their ob- 
 ject. From the window of their apartment on the Marina, 
 she watched for hours the varying tints which played upon 
 the opposite mountains of Calabria ; or, tracing the dwarfed 
 line of contiguous buildings, called to mind the earthquakes 
 which had transformed that peaceful landscape into a scene 
 of terror and destruction, the effects of which are still so pal- 
 pable. But disappointment shadowed her most tranquil 
 moments. In vain the count planned the most pleasant ex- 
 cursions. They charmed but momentarily. They had often 
 followed, in the calm light of eventide, the long, curving 
 beach, formed, according to classic fable, by the cycle of 
 Saturn, from the town to the Faro, and thence viewed the 
 massive square rock on the opposite coast, and the gurgling 
 currents near — the once dreaded dangers of the deep — the 
 Scylla and Charybdis of antiquity ; or from some favorable 
 point watched the twilight gather slowly over the beautiful 
 hills which closely environ the town ; or noted the splendid 
 chiaro of the atmosphere, which is nowhere more strikingly 
 obvious than in this part of the island. These peaceful 
 evenings, however, solaced Isabel, and she often returned 
 from such excursions re-animated by the exercise ; and as 
 they sat in the stone balcony, inhaling the invigorating breeze 
 as it swept through the Faro, and watching the lights of the 
 j&shermen's boats as their red glare flashed over the calm 
 
184 SICILY. 
 
 tide of the harbor, the cheering words of her uncle, and the 
 tender assiduities of her lover, failed not to renew her hopes 
 and renovate her spirits. 
 
 On one occasion thej started on their afternoon expedi- 
 tion in an unusually cheerful mood. Vittorio was in high 
 glee, because he had received intelligence that a party of 
 travellers had landed some weeks since at Syracuse, and hav- 
 ing explored most of the island, arrived at Palermo, and were 
 on the point of visiting Messina ; and among them he hoped 
 was the father of Isabel. Frazier was elated from anticipat- 
 ing the arrival of an American frigate, the commander of 
 which was his intimate friend ; while Isabel, having in- 
 stinctively caught something of the blitheness of her com- 
 panions, reciprocated all their words of encouragement, and 
 smiled at every ebullition of their kindly wit. Their object 
 on this occasion was to visit one of the highest hills, where 
 stands the telegraph, commanding the finest prospect in the 
 vicinity. After following for several hours a winding road, 
 overlooking precipitous and umbrageous glens, and bounded 
 by yet more lofty hills, thickly covered with fern, they 
 reached the desired spot, and beheld a scene of transcendent 
 beauty. On the one side were the Lipari islands, rising at 
 intervals from the sea, the cone-like mound of Stromboli con- 
 spicuous amid the group ; opposite was the long range of 
 Calabrian hills, and below the Faro, town, and bay, consti- 
 tuting a rich and finely-varied view, every feature of which 
 was vividly distinct at that clear and tranquil hour. They 
 had but rapidly taken cognizance of the several phases of 
 the picture, when it acquired a new and unexpected interest. 
 Around the point of the Faro appeared the American frigate, 
 her majestic form slowly moving before the wind, and her 
 well-known flag gaily flaunting in the breeze j and a moment 
 
THE REUNION. 185 
 
 after a steam-packet shot rapidly through, her smoke stream- 
 ing far along the horizon. 
 
 Isabel, after returning from this excursion, was scarcely 
 seated in her favorite balcony ere Vittorio entered, with a 
 look of delight which instantly awakened the expectancy of 
 his companion. 
 
 " I have," said he, " at length once more encountered my 
 Malta friend, and with your permission will bring him here 
 to pass the evening with us." 
 
 Isabel checked the expression of disappointment which 
 rose to her lips, and signified her assent. 
 
 An hour elapsed before the count's return. Frazier was 
 so occupied in examining, through his glass, the equipments 
 of the frigate, which was anchored opposite the window, and 
 Isabel was so lost in her own thoughts, that they did not 
 notice his entrance, or that he was accompanied by his friend. 
 They approached the balcony and paused. Isabel listlessly 
 turned her head, and her eye instantly met that of the 
 stranger. There was a quick, short cry of recognition, and 
 the next moment she was in the arms of her father. 
 
 A few days subsequent the dawn broke with more than 
 ordinary beauty over the landscape which greeted the eyes 
 of the pilgrims on their first arrival. The morning was serene 
 and cool. The blue waters of the harbor were scarcely rip- 
 pled. Far away, upon the undulating hills, sunlight and 
 shade played fantastically ; and the hum of re-awakened life 
 rose with a scarcely audible murmur. Suddenly volumes of 
 smoke rolled from the dark sides of the frigate, a sheet of 
 flame shot momently through the vapor, and then, deep, loud, 
 
186 BICILY. 
 
 and solemn, eclioed the thunder of the report. Cloud after 
 cloud wound gracefully upward, and coujomed above her 
 masts, and the attentive eye could occasionally trace a per- 
 fect circle of smoke, till it floated into the depths of the sky. 
 This parting salute was not immediately followed by those 
 rapid manoeuvres requisite to put the vessel in motion. It 
 was evident, from the arrangements visible, that some cere- 
 mony was to be performed before her canvas was spread to 
 the breeze. Shaded by a broad canopy, the oflicers were 
 composedly grouped upon the polished quarter-deck, and 
 near by were the now united pilgrims, while below them the 
 men presented gallant lines, standing uncovered, and in such 
 silent array, that the flutter of the national banner might be 
 distinctly heard. Beneath that emblem of her far distant 
 country the marriage vows of Isabel were uttered, and, at 
 the conclusion of the rite, the noble vessel stretched proudly 
 away for the neighboring shores of Italy. It is only when 
 we leave the scene of a pilgrimage that we perfectly realize 
 its interesting and characteristic features. As Isabel watched 
 the diminishing headlands of the island, the experience of 
 her sojourn was renewed in the retrospective glance of 
 memory. She recalled the peculiar and lovely scenery which 
 had so often cheered her sight. She reverted to the number- 
 less beings who were content to drudge on in the monoto- 
 nous circuit of a few dim thoughts, and the dark requisition 
 of p, narrow creed, and the countless victims of ignorance 
 and poverty that grope abjectly amid such ennobling scenes 
 of picturesqueness and beauty. She thought of the noble 
 relics of the past that still sanctify the soil, "and the acts of 
 kindness and words of sympathy which had solaced her exile. 
 The mingled remembrances grew more vivid as the real pic- 
 ture became dim ; and, with her farewell glance, she breathed 
 an aspiration, spontaneously inspired in every susceptible 
 
THE REUNION. 187 
 
 mind, in taking leave of Sicily, tliat tlie time may come when 
 the rich resources and beautiful garniture with which nature 
 has blessed the ancient island may be hallowed by a worthier 
 heritage of human freedom, intelligencCj and virtue. 
 
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